• 1. The Illusion of Parnassah by Human Strength

    > “However, when it comes to parnassah, a person works many hours, inside the house and outside in the field. He trusts in his abilities and wisdom; and he thinks that if he works a few more hours, he will have more parnassah. To such a person, it is very hard to give a berachah and a salvation for parnassah.”

    Here the danger is clear: when a man believes his livelihood is secured by sheer effort, he mistakes the vessel for the source. His trust in self closes the channel of blessing from Heaven.

    2. The Strength of the Yetzer Hara

    > *“When you go out to war against your enemy” (Devarim 20:1). The Or HaChaim writes: “The pasuk alludes to the war against the yetzer hara… although the yetzer hara is stronger than us.”

    Why is it stronger?

    > “There are two aspects: man is not trained for warfare, while the yetzer hara is a trained warrior. And the human body desires everything the yetzer hara offers: arrogance, indulgence, theft…”

    Thus, just as man deceives himself in livelihood, so too he deceives himself in thinking he can conquer temptation by his own power. Without Hashem, he is defenseless.

    3. The Torah as Hashem’s Chosen Influence
    The Ramchal in Derekh Hashem explains:

    > “Among the influences that are brought from Him… [Torah study] is the most precious and sublime of all that can be found in existence… The Creator, may His name be blessed, bound this influence to something created for this purpose by Him… and that is the Torah. And this matter is accomplished in two ways — by speaking and by understanding.”

    When one learns Torah — not merely recites but speaks its words with the right framework, and grasps their true meaning — Divine influence descends. Torah becomes the antidote:

    To parnassah illusion, Torah teaches that livelihood flows from Heaven.

    To yetzer hara, Torah is the weapon designed by Hashem Himself: “Barasi yetzer hara, barasi lo Torah tavlin.”

    4. The Pride that Banished Humility
    The Chovos HaLevavos warns:

    > “There are two kinds of pride. Pride in the bodily powers and in corporeal and material things; and pride in spiritual and mental qualities, such as wisdom, and in good works. All pride of the former kind banishes humility.”

    The man who prides himself in wealth or strength denies Hashem’s providence. But even spiritual pride can be shameful:

    > “Where a man prides himself on his wisdom and righteousness… it leads to his being great in his own eyes… and induces him to look with contempt on other men… and to glory in the failings of his fellows.”

    This is arrogance cloaked in piety, the most dangerous form of pride.

    5. Pride Consistent with Humility
    Yet Chovos HaLevavos allows for an admirable pride:

    > “The admirable kind of pride is that, when the wise man prides himself on his wisdom, and the just man on his righteousness — not as his own possession, but as a gift from the Lord of all.”

    This is pride not in self, but in being chosen to carry Hashem’s gifts. It is humility that recognizes Divine grace and takes joy in it.

    6. Man as the Microcosm
    The same work continues:

    > “Although it is incumbent upon us to investigate and study the whole universe… the subject most necessary to study… is the evidence of divine wisdom shown in all that concerns the human species. For man is the universe in little (microcosm), and the proximate cause of the existence of the great world (macrocosm).”

    Man is both battlefield and vessel:

    His body and cravings are the arena of the yetzer hara.

    His livelihood and striving test his trust in Hashem.

    His soul, with the power of speech and understanding, channels the influence of Torah.

    His heart balances pride and humility, teaching him whether he will glorify himself or glorify Hashem.

    Thus, as Iyov declared:

    > “And from my flesh I shall see G-d.”

    By studying man — his desires, his humility, his Torah — we perceive Hashem’s wisdom reflected in miniature.

    7. The Unified Truth

    In parnassah, pride whispers: “I created this wealth.”

    In battle with the yetzer hara, pride whispers: “I can overcome by myself.”

    In Torah study, pride whispers: “My wisdom, my insight.”

    But the corrective is the same: bitachon and humility. Man’s strength is illusion; Hashem alone grants success. True pride is only in carrying the Torah and serving as a vessel of His influence.

    8. Final Word
    To live with humility does not mean to erase oneself, but to recognize one’s role. We are workers, not creators; vessels, not sources. To study Torah with humility is to open the channels of blessing in livelihood, to stand armed against the yetzer hara, and to transform pride into holy joy.

    > “Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit — says Hashem” (Zechariah 4:6).

  • 1. Satisfying Wants and Needs

    When wealth first arrives, it usually flows into lifestyle. The larger home, the better car, the vacations and lavish simchas—all those long-held desires quickly become redefined as “needs.” A man adjusts upward and calls it normal.

    2. Preservation Mode

    Almost immediately, fear follows: “What if it all disappears?” The instinct is to preserve. So the wealthy turn to investments—stocks, real estate, trusts, anything that feels like a hedge against loss. The drive is not just growth but protection.

    2a. The Missing Skill: Hiding Wealth

    Tzniut (modesty) is not only about clothing. It applies to lifestyle itself. A wise man learns the skill of blending in—living like the average person, not flaunting success. This protects him from jealousy and from the endless line of professional fundraisers. It also protects the community by reducing class tension.

    The most elevated wealthy Jew is one who lives simply but gives generously, so that the receiver gains dignity and the giver avoids becoming a public target.

    3. Moral and Social Duty

    The Torah sets out a clear ladder of priorities for giving charity:

    • Yourself
    • Parents
    • Children
    • Relatives
    • Local poor
    • Then, the poor of Eretz Yisrael and beyond

    Tzedakah is not about emotions or prestige. It is about obligation in precise order. Supporting a distant cause while neglecting parents, relatives, or struggling neighbors is a distortion of halacha.

    3a. The Skill of Giving

    The Torah fiercely protects private property. “Yours is yours.” No one can take your money by force, except in limited communal emergencies—defense, security, or the upkeep of the city. What Hashem gives you is truly yours.

    At the same time, Torah demands growth: the wealthy Jew must learn to give. This is not communism where wealth is seized and redistributed. Rather, the Torah model expects a man to rise on his own to the level where he views his wealth as a tool for others.

    The paradox is deliberate: your money is yours, yet you are expected to give as if it also belongs to others. Tzedakah is not forced redistribution; it is voluntary spiritual growth, a discipline where the giver elevates himself by choosing generosity.

    4. The Clash with Marketing

    Once wealth is visible, the pressure begins. Fundraisers, institutions, and global campaigns descend with polished videos and entourages. The marketing flips the halachic ladder upside down. Suddenly the prestige of supporting a famous Israeli yeshiva outweighs the duty to help your struggling cousin down the street.

    The outcome is tragic: local poor are sidelined, while foreign institutions turn local generosity into their income stream. The community bleeds money outward, while its weakest members are neglected.

    The Core Truth

    The Torah’s balance is perfect:

    • No one can take from you by force. What Hashem gave is yours.
    • You are expected to give freely. Not because others demand it, but because you grow by doing it.

    The danger is letting outsiders dictate your giving. The growth must be yours—a personal act of tzedakah in the right order, not a response to marketing pressure.

    Summary: The Skills of Wealth and Giving

    The journey of wealth passes through clear stages: first satisfying wants, then preserving assets, then learning to hide success, and finally confronting the obligations of charity. Torah insists on a strict ladder of priorities—yourself, your parents, your children, your relatives, your local poor, and only then wider causes. Marketing campaigns and prestige pressure often distort this order, pulling funds away from the very people Torah places first.

    The missing skills are not only financial—they are spiritual: the skill of hiding wealth with tzniut, and the skill of giving without coercion, growing into generosity because one chooses it. Torah protects property rights absolutely, but expects the wealthy Jew to elevate himself by seeing his resources as tools to serve Hashem and uplift others.

    Epilogue: The Deeper Skill of Life

    Whether poor, middle class, or wealthy, many people never feel they have enough. If a child grows up in an environment where the refrain is always, “We don’t have enough,” that mentality follows him into adulthood. Even when he becomes wealthy, he still thinks, “I need more.” This is the poison of discontent—it attaches to the soul regardless of bank balance.

    The Torah teaches the opposite: to internalize satisfaction. If tonight’s supper is bread, water, and a potato, that is enough to live another day to serve Hashem. The skill is not in saying “I don’t need more” as words, but in truly believing, “I have enough.”

    Poverty and wealth are both tests. The poor man must learn not to complain and not to define his life by what is missing. The wealthy man must learn not to hoard and not to chase endlessly. Both must internalize the same skill: to be happy with their lot. This is not rhetoric—it is lived truth, seen and felt by others. The one who stops chasing becomes free. The one who keeps chasing—even in the name of Torah—remains enslaved.

    That is the final skill of wealth and life: to know that Hashem placed me here, with this portion, and to say with integrity—dayeinu, it is enough.

  • Chapter 1

    The foundation of communal Jewish identity rests on Torah itself. A Jew is not defined only by personal belief but by belonging to a people bound by covenant. In this sense, every Jew shares responsibility for the spiritual and material well-being of the nation. The Torah Jew is a communal being first.

    Chapter 2

    At the same time, each person stands before God as an individual. Beyond the communal duties, there is the individual Torah Jew who must study, pray, and act with integrity regardless of what the community does. The covenant is collective, but the mitzvot are personal obligations.

    Chapter 3

    Above both communal and individual levels lies the elevated Jew, who models himself on Avraham Avinu. He gives not only because commanded, but because he seeks to embody God’s will beyond obligation. This is a life of chesed, generosity, and moral courage that extends past the minimum halachic line.

    Chapter 4

    History shows that Jewish survival has depended not on numbers but on the strength of identity. Nations such as Edom or Moav have disappeared, but Israel remains. The Torah teaches that the Jewish people endure because of their covenantal responsibility to one another and their willingness to sacrifice for Torah and community.

    Chapter 5

    This three-tiered model of Jewish identity mirrors Rambam’s structure of tzedakah: from minimal giving, to proportional obligation, to the highest level of enabling independence. Likewise, the Jew moves from communal identity, to individual duty, to the elevated calling of Avraham’s path. Each level is necessary, but the goal is always to rise higher.

    Chapter 6

    We live in a world that often confuses values. Wealth, power, and convenience are mistaken for purpose. Yet Torah insists that responsibility defines a Jew’s life. Whether in the Beit Midrash or in the marketplace, the question is not “what do I gain?” but “what do I owe?” This outlook transforms even ordinary acts into service of God and community.

    7. Priorities and Obligations in Charity (Horeb §573)

    1. Who has a claim:
      Everyone in need has a claim on your charity. Jewish poor—even sinners—must be cared for. A ger toshav (a non-Jew who rejects idolatry and accepts the seven universal laws) has a claim equal to that of a Jew.
    2. Adult children count as tzedakah and come first:
      Money spent on sons and daughters after you are no longer legally obligated to maintain them is also tzedakah—including their upkeep, guidance, Torah education for sons, and good-life education for daughters. This support takes precedence over giving to others.
    3. Order of precedence among people:
      • Yourself comes first. If you lack enough for your own basic needs, you are not obligated in tzedakah.
      • Next: father and mother.
      • Then: your children.
      • Then: your brothers and sisters.
      • Then: other relatives, neighbors, your fellow-townspeople, and finally strangers.
    4. Within relatives and locales:
      • Your father’s siblings precede your mother’s siblings.
      • The poor of your household precede the poor of your town.
      • The poor of your own town precede those of another town—even if the other town is in Eretz Yisrael.
      • All else being equal among non-locals, the inhabitants of Eretz Yisrael take precedence over other places.
    5. Relatives before the community:
      The well-to-do relatives of a poor person are obligated to support him before the community is asked to do so.
    6. How to give in practice:
      • If you can, bring a poor person into your home and employ/serve him.
      • Feeding the hungry outranks clothing the naked.
      • Women have a stronger claim than men.
      • Food is given without investigation when asked; clothing may be investigated—but if you know the person, provide it immediately.
      • Ransoming captives/prisoners takes priority over everything else.
  • 1. Extravagance vs. Restraint
    It is a strange contradiction of human nature that a man will spare no expense when it comes to adorning himself with luxuries. A large collar, a costly jewel, or some fleeting ornament becomes to him a necessity, and for these vanities he opens his purse without hesitation. Hundreds of coins flow easily for the sake of fashion, for status, or for the admiration of others, and yet he sees no excess in this indulgence.

    2. Stinginess in Charity
    But when the same man is approached for tzedakah, when the poor stretch out their hands or a sacred cause is placed before him, suddenly he shrinks back. The hand that was so ready to scatter gold upon trifles becomes closed and heavy. He presses a single coin into the hand of the pauper, as though he has already ascended to the loftiest heights of generosity. What was once an open stream of wasteful spending becomes a miser’s trickle when the honor of Heaven and the needs of His people are concerned.

    3. The Hypocrisy of Priorities
    This is the great hypocrisy which the Sages rebuked: that one can justify lavish spending on the self while rationing mitzvah spending as though it were a grievous loss. The Pele Yoetz teaches that what the rich man dismisses as refuse may in fact be the very sustenance of the poor, who see it as prime goods and treasure it as dearly as the pupil of their own eye. Yet the wealthy man allows the counsel of the yetzer hara to deceive him, convincing him that giving even such leftovers is beneath his dignity.

    4. The Spiritual Consequence
    Such behavior is not merely stinginess; it is a disgrace. It wrongs the needy, who are deprived of relief, but it also dishonors the giver, who reveals by his actions that his comforts are dearer to him than the mitzvos of the Torah. He elevates his honor above the honor of Heaven, exalting his vanities while ignoring the eternal reward that stands before him. In truth, he becomes small in the eyes of men and in the judgment of Heaven, for he has shown that wealth is his master and not his servant.

    5. The Call to Wisdom
    The wise man, however, acts with discernment. He knows how to restrain himself from needless extravagance and to direct his wealth toward enduring purposes. He learns from David HaMelech, who diminished his own royal comforts in order to gather a treasury for the Beis HaMikdash. By following this example, the wise man honors God with his substance, gladdens the hearts of the downtrodden, and earns the respect of his fellows. In this balance lies true dignity: that one’s possessions serve him in the service of Heaven, and not the other way around.

    6. The Dominion of Money
    Yet, tragically, monetary gain has become the ruling force of our generation, to the point where men are governed by it more than by any other passion. The desire for wealth has taken hold of the heart, stronger than physical appetites, stronger even than the fear of sin. A man’s money has become more precious to him than his health, his honor, and at times even more than his very soul.

    7. The Duty of Man
    Yet one must not despair before this mighty urge, for this is the true duty of man in the world: to conquer his yetzer hara. As the Sages taught, “Who is strong? He who subdues his inclination” (Avos 4:1). He must open his eyes and realize that blind pursuit of wealth destroys men, brings them to ruin, and leaves them embittered and broken.

    8. Truth Before God
    A man must face the absolute truth: it is better to suffer hunger and deprivation than to stand guilty before the Almighty for dishonest or destructive pursuit of gain. To choose the crooked path for the sake of profit is to anger one’s Creator and Benefactor, Heaven forbid.

    9. The Strength to Prevail
    Therefore a man must strengthen himself with might. He must look upon silver and gold as nothing when set against the will of Heaven. He must act with courage so that wealth and possessions appear small to him compared to the greatness of serving his Creator.

    10. Faith in Providence
    He should believe with complete faith that every detail of his livelihood is already decreed by Heaven. With this conviction planted firmly in his heart, he will not be shaken by the rising waves or the shifting storms of the world. Whether fortune rises or falls, he remains steadfast, knowing that his sustenance is secure in the hands of God.

  • Chapter 1: Introduction – The Language of Metaphor

    A. Science and the Human Imagination
    When physicists describe space-time as a “fabric,” they don’t mean the universe is sewn together with thread. When astronomers speak of a “black hole,” they don’t mean a literal hole dug into the sky. These words are metaphors. They help the human mind picture what it cannot directly observe. Without them, the average person would be unable to grasp even the faintest outline of what scientists are talking about.

    Religion operates with the same challenge. The Creator is beyond human comprehension, beyond form or likeness. Yet to worship Him, human beings must be able to imagine, to picture, to hold something in their minds. The language of the Bible provides this bridge through what is called corporeal language — words borrowed from the human body and human emotions, applied upward to describe the Divine.

    B. Corporeal Language Defined
    “Corporeal language” means describing God in terms we normally apply to human beings: God’s “hand,” God’s “anger,” God’s “remembering,” God’s “seeing.” None of these are literally true. They are linguistic scaffolding, a way to make God’s presence graspable to minds that would otherwise have no hold. Just as scientific metaphor is not reality but approximation, so too the Bible’s corporeal descriptions are not reality but invitation.

    Chapter 2: Why the Bible Speaks in Human Terms

    A. The Prophets as Translators
    The prophets were teachers, not philosophers writing for an elite academy. They had to speak to farmers, craftsmen, mothers, and children. They knew that if they described God only in abstract, metaphysical terms, the people would be lost. Religion would dissolve into an exercise for intellectuals. So they spoke in the language of men, using imagery drawn from kingship, family, and nature.

    B. Worship Requires Conception
    Human beings cannot worship what they cannot conceive. To worship a God who is utterly unknowable is, in practice, to worship nothing. Thus corporeal language was not a concession but a necessity. The “hand of God” is not a literal hand — it is power. God’s “anger” is not mood — it is justice. But these metaphors give people something to grasp. Without them, worship would be impossible.

    Chapter 3: The Dual Audience

    A. The Simple and the Wise
    The Torah speaks at two levels. For the masses, corporeal language provides a living image of God. For the thoughtful, it provides a puzzle, an allusion pointing to something higher. Both levels are intentional.

    B. The Obligation of the Thinker
    The erudite person must not stop at the surface. They must “strip away the shell” of anthropomorphic language and rise, step by step, toward truer understanding. Each person is responsible according to their capacity. Just as physical stamina varies from person to person, so does intellectual stamina.

    C. Ignorance vs. Neglect
    Ignorance is excusable; neglect is not. If a person genuinely lacks the ability, they are judged according to their means. But if someone has the power to learn and refuses, their refusal is blameworthy. To turn away from wisdom when it is within reach is to betray the gifts one has been given.

    Chapter 4: The Function of Metaphor

    A. Why It Works for Both
    Corporeal language does not harm the philosopher, who sees through it to the higher meaning. At the same time, it sustains the faith of the ordinary believer, who takes the imagery at face value and anchors their worship upon it. Like a parable that can be understood by a child and a sage in different ways, Scripture speaks to both.

    B. Modern Parallels
    Think of how we teach children about electricity. We describe it as “water flowing through pipes.” That is not technically accurate, but it helps a child grasp the concept. Later, in physics class, the student learns about electrons and currents. The first image is not false; it is introductory. So too the Bible’s use of corporeal terms.

    Chapter 5

    Corporeal Language and the Jewish Divergence

    5A. Judaism and the Embodiment of the Divine

    1. Judaism rejects the notion that God can be represented by a physical human being. Christianity and Buddhism both inserted human representatives of the divine into their systems — a move that Judaism considers a corruption.

    2. Once the infinite is forced into the finite, leaders of new religions gain power to dictate rules convenient for attracting followers. Christianity built an entire religious empire on this dynamic, explaining why billions follow it while Judaism remains small but unbending.

    5B. Judaism and Islam: The Problem of Over-Abstraction

    3. Islam, in its zeal to defend God’s transcendence, swung in the opposite direction. By stripping away nearly all metaphor and imagery, it left worshipers with an abstract, distant God.

    4. Judaism charted a third way. It allows the Torah’s “mighty hand” and “outstretched arm,” but trains its people to know these are metaphors — aids to imagination, not literal truths.

    5C. The Positive Function of Corporeal Language

    5. Judaism embraces metaphor responsibly. Without imagery, humans struggle to feel; with imagery, they risk distortion. Judaism holds the tension.

    6. A Jewish child hears about God’s “strong hand.” As he matures, he learns it is figurative. Yet he does not discard it; he carries both the warmth of the picture and the depth of the abstraction.

    7. This duality is itself an education. It develops maturity of mind and heart: the ability to live with paradox rather than flee into simplification.

    5D. The Loneliness of Fidelity

    8. This balance is demanding. Other religions grew rapidly by choosing simplicity: Christianity incarnated, Islam abstracted. Judaism remained small because it refused both shortcuts.

    9. Living with a God who is both near and far, both intimate and infinite, requires constant maturity. It is less popular but more truthful.

    10. Judaism chose truth over mass appeal. That decision explains why it is fewer in number but enduring in essence.

    5E. Practice as the Bridge

    11. Judaism’s solution is not merely theoretical. It embeds the paradox into daily practice.

    12. Prayer speaks in corporeal terms — “God listens,” “God sees,” “God remembers” — but halacha reminds the Jew that God has no ears, eyes, or memory lapses. The language warms the heart; the law disciplines the mind.

    13. Torah study deepens the same balance. The narratives of Exodus and Kings are filled with anthropomorphism, while the halachic midrash and Talmud insist on divine transcendence. Story and law work together to form the Jewish soul.

    5F. Corporeal Language and Human Dignity

    14. There is another implication: by refusing to embody God in man, Judaism protects human dignity. If one man is divine, others are less than him. If God is infinite and beyond embodiment, every human being stands equal before Him.

    15. Christianity exalted one man and by consequence diminished the rest. Judaism never allowed such a distortion. Every Jew — indeed every human being — carries divine image, but no one is divine.

    5G. The Enduring Destiny of Jewish Thought

    16. This choice — to live with paradox, to resist simplification — shaped Jewish destiny. It meant small numbers, endless struggle, and intellectual loneliness. But it also meant survival.

    17. Empires rose and fell, religions multiplied, but Judaism endured. The refusal to trade truth for numbers preserved it through exile, persecution, and modernity.

    18. In a world that craves easy answers, Judaism stands as a reminder: some truths are too vast for simplification. God is one, beyond image, beyond incarnation, yet close enough to speak of in the warm language of human touch.

    Chapter 6: Corporeal Language as Both Necessity and Risk

    A. Without It, No Worship
    Without corporeal language, most people would have no conception of God at all. Their prayers would fall into emptiness.

    B. With It, Risk of Error
    With corporeal language, there is always the risk that people will confuse metaphor with reality. The genius of Torah is to walk this fine line: to give images strong enough to inspire, but clear enough to hint that they are only metaphors.

    Chapter 7: Modern Relevance

    A. Science and Faith
    Today, we see the same dynamic in science. Public understanding depends on metaphors. Few people understand relativity or quantum physics, but they know “fabric of space-time” and “wave-particle duality.” These words are not strictly accurate, but they are necessary.

    B. Religion in the Modern Mind
    In our own time, many people swing to extremes. Pop spirituality makes God too human, a “best friend” or “cosmic therapist.” Philosophy makes God too distant, an abstract force beyond all relation. The Torah’s balance is wiser: speak of God in human terms so that people can worship, but never forget that He transcends all likeness.

    C. Language and the Heart
    Human beings live by imagination as much as by reason. We need images to inspire us, even if we know they are not literally true. A child calls his father “the strongest man in the world” — not a factual claim, but an expression of relationship. In the same way, corporeal language expresses the closeness of God, even while reason knows He is beyond all form.

    Chapter 8: Conclusion – Worship Through Words, Beyond Words

    A. The Bridge of Language
    Corporeal language is the bridge between the finite and the infinite. It gives the simple man words to pray with, and gives the philosopher hints to think with. It unites the community of Israel, allowing every person, according to their measure, to worship the same God.

    B. Two Paths, One Goal
    For some, the images suffice: God as King, Father, Shepherd. For others, the images must be transcended. Both paths are valid, as long as the metaphor is not mistaken for reality.

    C. The Final Warning and the Final Gift
    The prophets’ warning remains: “You saw no image.” Yet the gift remains as well: the ability to speak of God at all. Just as science needs metaphor to explain the cosmos, faith needs metaphor to make the infinite approachable. The task is to use these words well — to let them open the door, without mistaking the doorway for the destination.

  • Classical principles applied to the modern world of media, phones, and constant distraction.

    Why Man Must Work

    The Creator obligated man to exert himself for livelihood and necessities for two core reasons:

    1. Trial of the soul. God gives man needs—food, clothing, shelter, relationships—that must be pursued through effort. What is decreed for a person he will attain; what is not decreed no effort will bring. The real test lies in our choices while pursuing livelihood: to serve God with honesty and restraint, or to rebel and chase forbidden desires.
    2. Guard against rebellion. Without the discipline of work, man slides into laziness and sin, forgetting his dependence on God. As the prophet warns: They have lyre and harp, timbrel and flute and wine at their feasts, but they do not notice the work of the Lord (Yeshayahu 5:12).

    The Balance of Torah and Work

    “Excellent is Torah study together with work, for labor at both brings peace of mind. All Torah without work leads to neglect and sin.”

    Avos 2:2

    Man was created to balance worldly exertion with avodas Hashem. Work is a tool—never the center of identity—meant to anchor us to responsibility and gratitude.

    Modern Challenges: The New Trials of Livelihood

    In earlier generations one could sell in the marketplace and return home with a mind largely untouched by outside influence. Today the trial is magnified:

    • Aimless idleness. Endless gaming, scrolling, and shallow online chatter erode discipline and stunt real communication and responsibility.
    • False connections. Texting substitutes for friendship; screens replace face-to-face accountability needed for marriage, family, and community.
    • The spiritual flood. Modern commerce routes a person through advertising, social platforms, and media steeped in immodesty, greed, and cynicism. The very tools for earning a living carry corrosive values.

    The Torah Response

    The answer is not retreat into caves, but boundaries and better choices:

    • Guard eyes and ears—especially in business settings and online work.
    • Prefer livelihood paths that minimize exposure to corrupt culture.
    • Strengthen home, shul, and community so they are louder than the culture around us.
    • Remember: parnassah is decreed by God. Our test is not whether we get it, but how we seek it.

    Conclusion

    A century ago a Jew could work the market and remain spiritually intact. Today he must navigate a web of temptations and false values. Yet the principle stands: livelihood is a test. We must work for bread—and work even harder to keep the soul alive amid distraction.

    “God will not let the righteous go hungry.”

    Mishlei 10:3
  • Two Ledgers: Life vs. IRS

    The Torah obligates every Jew to give tzedakah not from what he reports on paper to the IRS, but from what he truly receives for his own benefit. Just as on Rosh Hashanah there is a Book of Life and a Book of Death, so too there are two ledgers in wealth:

    1. The IRS book, kept for governments and tax authorities, designed to minimize tax liability and maximize protection.

    2. The Book of Life, recording the real blessings a person enjoys: the bed he sleeps in, the food he eats, the clothes he wears, the cars he drives, the vacations he takes.

    Two Ledgers: IRS vs. Heaven

    The Torah obligates every Jew to give tzedakah not from what he reports on paper to the IRS, but from what he truly receives for his own benefit. Just as Rosh Hashanah has two “books” — one for life and one for death — so too there are two ledgers in wealth:

    1. The official ledger, kept for governments and tax authorities.

    2. The true ledger, recording the real benefits a person enjoys: the bed he sleeps in, the food he eats, the clothes he wears, the cars he drives, the vacations he takes.

    Clever financial structures may reduce taxes or obscure wealth from the public eye, but they do not reduce the mitzvah of giving. Hashem counts every penny that turns into personal benefit. From that benefit, charity must be given.

    How the Wealthy Manage Their Finances

    Wealthy individuals often use sophisticated strategies to protect assets and minimize taxes:

    Hiding assets in trusts – separating control from ownership, keeping assets invisible to public records, passing down wealth tax-free, and avoiding lawsuits and probate.

    Paying themselves in loans, not salaries – loans aren’t taxed, assets serve as collateral, and there are no payroll deductions.

    Using shell companies to own luxury assets – cars, yachts, and jets held by LLCs to remove personal liability, allow expense write-offs, and keep names off public ownership.

    Claiming low income but living rich – reporting $50K income while living a $5M lifestyle, with the difference covered through tax-free leverage, company-paid expenses, and homes listed as “offices.”

    Structuring assets under holding companies – one holding entity controlling multiple LLCs, streamlining tax planning, isolating risks, and keeping ownership unclear.

    Leasing instead of buying – cars, property, and jets leased by businesses so monthly costs are deductible, depreciation tax is avoided, and luxury taxes sidestepped.

    Hiring family members – paying children tax-free income, deducting their wages as expenses, funding Roth IRAs for them, and building generational wealth early.

    Owning homes through LLCs – the LLC owns the property, while the individual pays “rent” to it, deducting rent from taxable income and turning homes into assets rather than liabilities.

    Maxing out loss-carryforward deductions – carrying forward losses to offset future gains, keeping reported income low while boosting long-term net wealth.

    These methods may succeed in lowering taxes and protecting assets from the state, but they do not fool Heaven.

    The True Obligation of Tzedakah

    The Torah’s demand is not satisfied with clever accounting. Tzedakah is measured from real benefit: the wealth you enjoy, the life you live, the comforts you take.

    A man may officially show $2 million in income, but if he enjoys $10 million in perks, assets, and luxuries, his obligation is to give based on the $10 million. If his lifestyle consumes $100 million of travel, parties, and properties while his filings only show $2 million, Heaven still demands charity on the $100 million.

    Practical Applications: The Accountant’s Ledger

    This is why the wealthy need accountants not only for taxes but also for mitzvos. Just as a firm keeps books for the IRS, a second ledger should be kept — an “Obligation Ledger” — to calculate the tangible, personal benefits that flow to the individual and his family, no matter how they are routed.

    Examples from Rabbi Moshe Hinneman’s Sefer Tzedakah

    The Restaurant Meeting
    A man attends a large business dinner where the total bill is $5,000. His portion of the meal is valued at $300. If the same type of food prepared at home would have cost $150, then that $150 is considered his personal benefit. For tzedakah purposes, it is as though he took $150 in cash out of the business, and he must give accordingly. The remaining $150 of his portion — along with the balance of the $5,000 spent on colleagues and clients — is a legitimate business expense.

    The Luxury Car
    If a businessman truly needs a very expensive car (e.g., $200,000) for business purposes — to project an image, impress clients, or gain access in a market where appearances matter — then the entire cost may be a legitimate business expense. But if he does not need such a car for his work (for example, he conducts business online, never meets clients, and simply uses the allowance as an excuse to buy a luxury vehicle for personal driving), then the purchase is entirely personal benefit. In such a case, it is as if he withdrew $200,000 for himself, and he must give tzedakah accordingly. Unlike food, where one can split between business and personal value, with a vehicle it is usually all-or-nothing: either truly for business or fully for personal use. The dividing line is honesty with oneself — because in truth, the individual knows whether he bought it for the company’s needs or for his own pleasures.

    The Family Vacation
    A businessman books a $50,000 “business retreat” in a resort location. He brings his family along, mixing meetings with relaxation. If he would have taken a vacation anyway with his family at a cost of $20,000, then that $20,000 is considered personal benefit and must be reflected in his obligation ledger. The remaining $30,000 may be treated as legitimate business expense if it is truly necessary for entertaining clients, team building, or closing deals. But if the “business” is only a thin cover for what is in reality a family holiday, then the majority — if not all — of the expense counts as personal benefit.

    Additional Guidance for Accountants

    To calculate fairly, an accountant should:

    Review LLC Credit Cards – Separate business expenses from personal charges (restaurants, vacations, clothing, luxury purchases). Every personal charge counts toward the obligation ledger.

    Track Travel Expenses – Distinguish between business necessity and personal leisure. Flights, hotels, and upgrades enjoyed by the family must be added to personal benefit.

    Account for Lifestyle Benefits – Cars, apartments, chefs, staff, and other “business” perks that serve the family’s comfort are part of the true income.

    Apply Honest Baselines – Ask: “What would this person have spent for himself at home?” The difference between that baseline and the inflated expense is his personal benefit.

    This method creates a clear, fair system that mirrors reality: what Hashem gave and what the individual actually used.

    Conclusion: Two Ledgers, One Obligation

    Corporate structures, trusts, shell companies, and deductions may protect wealth and satisfy governments. But the Torah sees through it all. A Jew’s obligation to give tzedakah is measured by what he takes — the food he eats, the clothes he wears, the cars he drives, the vacations he enjoys, the life he lives.

    Therefore, the truly responsible wealthy person must maintain not just a tax ledger, but an Obligation Ledger. With it, he can ensure that his giving is faithful to the blessings he enjoys, fair to the community that depends on him, and true to the gifts that Hashem placed in his hands.

  • One of the strangest teachings in Chazal comes from the Midrash on Yam Suf: even Datan and Aviram, those consistent rebels against Moshe and Hashem, merited the sea to split for them. The Torah records that they did not leave Egypt with the nation at first, and yet when they finally came to the sea, it parted for the two of them just as it had for all of Klal Yisrael.

    This is puzzling. Why should men who fought Moshe from Egypt to the wilderness, who stirred up rebellion and refused to listen, deserve such a miracle? The answer is that they did not deserve it at all. Rather, they were carried by the collective merit of Israel. The miracle was not theirs; it belonged to the tzaddikim and the nation as a whole. They were simply swept along because Hashem redeems His people together.

    The Principle of Collective Merit

    The splitting of the sea teaches a profound lesson: Hashem’s providence attaches not only to individuals but to the collective of Israel. Even the antagonists are preserved—not out of their own righteousness, but so that the nation as a whole remains whole. This is why Moshe, in Parashas Eikev, recalls Datan and Aviram but not Korach: the nation saw with their own eyes how men who once walked through the parted waters, sharing in the miracle, were later swallowed by the earth for their insolence. Their survival at the sea was not a sign of personal merit but of Hashem’s covenant with all of Israel.

    A Modern Parallel: Israel After the Shoah

    History has repeated itself in our own times. After the destruction of European Jewry, waves of Jews came to Eretz Yisrael. Among them were gedolei Torah, tzaddikim, and simple Jews devoted to mitzvos. Alongside them came secular Zionists, socialists, and even anti-religious leaders who scorned Torah. Yet when the State of Israel was declared in 1948 and surrounded by enemies, miracles of survival occurred. Time and again—in 1948, 1967, 1973, and even in our day—the nation has been preserved against impossible odds.

    Why? Not because of political brilliance or military genius alone. Those are only the garments. The true reason is the same as at Yam Suf: the merit of Torah and of the righteous within Israel sustains everyone together. Just as Datan and Aviram walked through the sea because they were attached to the people of Hashem, so too today the irreligious and even the antagonists of Torah are carried by the merit of the tzaddikim in their midst.

    The Contrast

    Here lies the eternal contrast. The tzaddikim live in open connection to Hashem; they are the reason the sea splits. The reshaim live off that merit temporarily, but their share is only incidental, borrowed from the collective. They receive miracles not because they deserve them, but because they are passengers in the same boat. Eventually, like Datan and Aviram, their own rebellion catches up with them. But in the meantime, Hashem protects the entire people as one body, for the sake of the covenant and the righteous within it.

    Conclusion

    The story of Datan and Aviram at Yam Suf is not a curious historical footnote; it is a blueprint for Jewish history. The existence of the State of Israel and the miracles of its wars are not testimony to the merit of secular ideologies but to the eternal covenant Hashem has with His people and the sustaining power of Torah. Just as the sea once split for rebels only because they were attached to the righteous, so too today every miracle in Israel’s survival flows from the hidden wellsprings of Torah and the collective merit of Klal Yisrael.

  • The Torah demands joy, yet life often brings sadness, melancholy, and even crushing depression. How are we to understand this tension? Is depression a sin, or is it an illness? Our tradition and the teachings of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski z”l offer a framework that separates behavioral sadness from medical depression, allowing us to serve Hashem with clarity and compassion.

    1. Torah’s Command of Joy

    The Torah states: “Because you did not serve Hashem your G-d with joy” (Devarim 28:47). Rambam teaches that simcha shel mitzvah is itself an avodah (Hilchot Lulav 8:15). Mussar and Chassidut warn that atzvut (melancholy) is spiritually destructive. Tanya (ch. 26) calls it a tool of the yetzer hara that paralyzes a Jew’s service of Hashem.

    From this perspective, indulging in sadness is a behavioral failure. One is commanded to cultivate joy and not allow oneself to be consumed by gloom or self-pity.

    2. Depression as Affliction

    Yet the Torah also recognizes sadness as an illness, not a sin:

    • King Shaul was afflicted by a ruach ra’ah, soothed only by David’s music (Shmuel I 16). His servants sought therapy, not rebuke.
    • Iyov cried out in despair, cursing the day of his birth. His suffering was treated as affliction, not sin.
    • Mishlei 18:14 teaches: “A man’s spirit can sustain his illness, but a broken spirit — who can bear it?” A broken spirit is described as worse than bodily disease.
    • Shulchan Aruch (O.C. 328) rules that mental anguish may classify a person as a choleh (ill person), permitting certain leniencies on Shabbat. This is clear halachic recognition of depression as illness.

    3. Rambam’s Bridge

    Rambam (Hilchot De’ot 1:4) describes destructive moods as machalot hanefesh — illnesses of the soul. Just as physical disease requires a doctor, so too do spiritual and emotional imbalances require healing. Here the line blurs: sometimes sadness is moral weakness; sometimes it is illness.

    4. Rabbi Dr. Twerski’s Clarification

    Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, z”l, a Hasidic rabbi and world-renowned psychiatrist, brought modern clarity to this ancient discussion. He insisted that:

    • Behavioral Sadness: When sadness is a matter of attitude, habit, or negativity, Torah demands that we fight it. This is a matter of bechirah (free will).
    • Medical Depression: When sadness is clinical, it is a disease of the brain, like diabetes or hypertension. One cannot simply “snap out of it.” In his words: “You cannot guilt a sick person into health. Depression is an illness, not a weakness of character.”

    Twerski compared antidepressants to insulin: taking medication for depression so one can serve Hashem is no different than taking insulin to live a healthy life. Both are tools Hashem provided for healing.

    5. The Integrated Framework

    When we put Torah and psychiatry together, a balanced picture emerges:

    • Behavioral Sadness → a moral failure if indulged; overcome with joy in mitzvot, gratitude, and Mussar.
    • Medical Depression → not sin but affliction; requires therapy, medication, support, alongside spiritual strength.
    • Overlap → sometimes habits of gloom evolve into clinical depression, or clinical depression worsens sinful attitudes. Discernment is required.

    Conclusion

    The Torah obligates joy, but it also recognizes affliction. Rabbi Dr. Twerski’s legacy is the clear separation: do not excuse laziness or negativity, but also do not condemn the clinically depressed. Each must be treated according to its nature. When sadness is behavioral, fight it. When it is medical, heal it. In both, Hashem provides the tools for recovery, whether through Torah, Mussar, or modern medicine.

  • Devarim 12:1–3: “These are the statutes and laws you must carefully keep in the land that Hashem, the God of your fathers, is giving you… You shall utterly destroy all the places where the nations served their gods… tear down their altars, break their pillars, burn their Asherah trees, and obliterate their names.”

    This begs the blunt question: If Hashem is all-powerful, why not give Am Yisrael a fresh, empty land with no nations, no idols, and no resistance? Why inherit a place already thick with altars and corruption?


    The Conditional Covenant

    Dwelling in Eretz Yisrael is conditional. The land is holy and cannot tolerate sin; when mitzvos are kept it flourishes, and when they are ignored it “vomits out” those who desecrate it. If Hashem had handed us an empty, neutral land, this clarity would vanish. Eretz Yisrael is not mere real estate—it is the public stage of the covenant. Blessing when Torah is upheld, exile when it is abandoned: that visible cycle itself is Kiddush Hashem.

    Uprooting Idolatry

    Hashem is not a local deity. He is the Master of every atom and force; there are no intermediaries. Therefore His people cannot retreat to a spiritual vacuum. They must confront the world’s epicenter of idolatry, cleanse it, and establish a Makom Kadosh where the Shechinah dwells. Smashing altars and planting Torah in their place proclaims, in geography and history, that Hashem is One.

    The Spiritual Exercise

    Strength only develops under resistance. A body without weights grows soft; a nation without challenge grows complacent. By placing us amid nations and temptations, Hashem built “spiritual exercise” into Jewish life. The pressure of foreign influence is the weight we must lift to maintain our Torah “muscle mass.” No resistance, no growth.

    The Unified Vision

    • The Covenant: The land is held on condition of Torah, forcing constant clarity and responsibility.
    • The Resistance: The surrounding nations and their cultures provide the very struggle that forges strength.

    Hashem could have given an easy gift. He chose instead to forge a living covenant: Israel purifies the most corrupt ground, withstands pressure, and turns the heart of the world into a dwelling for the One God. That is why the Torah insists we “carefully keep” its laws in the Land—and why our task began with tearing down altars and building holiness in their place.