One of the most important and fascinating figures in all of Jewish history is Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi, who is often referred to as simply “Rebbi.” He is best known for making what might be the most significant decisions ever made by a Rabbi – the decision to write the Mishnah. Until his time, the only written religious text was the Tanach, the 24 books of the Bible. All the rest, the entire corpus of halachah, was transmitted orally from teacher to student, and this is how it was supposed to be. But Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi, who was born about 50 years after the destruction of the second Bet Ha’mikdash, realized that the exile might endure for many more years. He feared that over the course of the centuries in exile under foreign rule, with the Jews dispersed across the four corners of the globe, their oral tradition might not be able to survive. He therefore made the courageous decision to do what nobody had ever even considered doing before – to write down the oral tradition. He composed the six books of the Mishnah, which contained all the halachic information and debates that existed until that time. This decision truly saved the Jewish Nation, as it laid the groundwork for the Talmud, its commentaries, and the wealth of halachic literature that is studied to this day and which continues to sustain us.
He was so revered and beloved that when it came time for him to depart this world, and he fell ill, all the Rabbis and yeshiva students prayed with great intensity and fervor that he should recover. The Gemara tells that the Satan was unable to take Rebbi’s soul because of all the impassioned prayers being recited on his behalf. Finally, Rebbi’s housekeeper, who saw his suffering and wished for him to die so he would no longer experience such pain, threw a utensil from the rooftop onto the ground to make a loud noise. This momentarily disrupted the Rabbis’ prayers, and at that second, Rebbi died.
The Richest Rabbi
But there was also something else exceptional about Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi – he was fabulously wealthy. He was likely the richest Rabbi that ever lived.
Rabbi Yehuda’s extraordinary wealth was foreseen already many centuries earlier – in the time of Yitzhak and Rivka. When Rivka was experiencing unusual pain during pregnancy, she consulted with a prophet, who informed her, שני גויים בטנך – she was bearing twins, two boys who would grow to produce two nations. Rashi writes that the word גויים also can be read as גאים – “exalted ones.” The prophet informed Rivka that among her descendants would be two very powerful, wealthy men – Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi, a descendant of Yaakov, and the Roman emperor who lived at the same time as Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi, a ruler named Antoninus, a descendant of Esav. These two men, as the Gemara describes, were both exceedingly wealthy, and were very close friends. The Gemara tells that they lived in luxurious palaces, and their tables were always filled with the finest delicacies.
Interestingly, their relationship began already as infants. When Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi was born, his parents gave him a berit milah in violation of the Roman authorities’ strict ban on circumcision. The local governor found out about it, and reported the infant’s father – Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel – to the emperor. The emperor immediately summoned Rabban Shimon and his wife to the palace.
The couple arrived at the palace with their young infant, knowing that they might be killed for defying the ban. But before they came before the king, they met the queen, who saw the young infant and did not want to see him or his parents killed. She had just given birth to a baby boy, and so she devised a clever plan: she would swap infants for the day with Rabban Shimon and his wife, so that it would appear as though they did not circumcise their child. Sure enough, when the couple came before the emperor, they showed him their baby, and he saw that the child was not circumcised. He furiously ordered his governor executed, and let Rabban Shimon and his wife leave. They returned to the queen, switched back the babies, and went home.
This Roman baby grew up to be Antoninus. His experience as an infant foreshadowed the close bond that would form between him and the other infant, Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi.
Enjoyment vs. Obsession
All this is presented by way of introduction to an astonishing story told of Rabbi Yehuda as he lay on his deathbed. Realizing that his end was near, Rabbi Yehuda lifted his hands upward, and proclaimed, “Master of the world! It is revealed and known that I did not enjoy this world, even in my small finger!” Despite his fabulous wealth, Rabbi Yehuda avowed to having not benefitted from anything worldly, not having enjoyed even a pinky’s worth.
How is this possible? A man who lived with such luxury, whose table was always filled with the finest foods and beverages – how could he possibly say that he never benefitted from this world?
The answer might be that Rebbi did not actually mean to say that he never derived worldly enjoyment. Instead, he meant that he never obsessed over his wealth and material possessions. He never made it the epicenter of his life, his primary focus and area of interest. He had wealth and he enjoyed his wealth, but this was not what his life was about. He had all the wealth and luxury anybody could ever want, but it never consumed him and took over his life. He lived a life of meaning, a life of religious devotion, not a life of indulgence. Even after having amassed an enormous fortune, he kept his priorities straight.
This is a vitally important message specifically for modern times, where many people enjoy affluence, and especially for our community.
The joke is told that when Syrians go to a Broadway show, they focus not on the performance, but on how much money the show is making. They sit and calculate the revenue from ticket sales and expenses for overhead and salaries, to figure out the net profit made by the producers.
In truth, this is not a joke. It actually happens all the time in our community – not necessarily with shows, but with other events. So many people leave a wedding talking not about the beautiful smiles on the couple’s faces, and how happy they are for the families, but about the cost of the décor, the catering, the flower arrangements and the custom-made suits and gowns. So many people spend their Shabbat meals talking about other community members’ new cars, vacations, pools and renovations to their homes. So many of us are guilty of this. It just comes automatically – the first thing we talk about is money.
Even assuming there is no lashon ha’ra involved, and nothing negative is being said about other people, even so, there is something very unhealthy and very inappropriate about our community’s obsession with money. And, incidentally, this is not something that only the exceptionally wealthy do. Everybody does it – the haves, the have-nots, and everyone in between. We are just consumed and obsessed by the topic of finances, which dominates our conversation, our thoughts and our lives. If we talk about money all the time, it means that this is our primary concern in life, this is what defines us. And this is very dangerous.
Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi teaches us about the proper approach and mindset towards money and wealth. The fact that one of the greatest spiritual leaders the Jews ever had was a fabulously wealthy man demonstrates that the Torah is not opposed to wealth. It is perfectly acceptable to want to earn a comfortable living, and to work hard to earn a comfortable living. But Rebbi’s deathbed proclamation should serve as a vitally important warning to us, not to allow this pursuit to consume us, not to obsess over finances, and not to define ourselves or other people by how much money we or they earn.
Caring for the Calf and the Mice
There is something else about Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi’s life that gives us further insight into this phenomenon of obsession over money.
The Gemara tells that Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi suffered a terrible illness for thirteen years. He cried out in pain so loudly, the Gemara says, that the boy who worked in his stable tending to the horses could not bear to hear the noise. He made a point of feeding the horses when Rebbi shouted, because horses make a lot of noise when they eat, and the stable boy wanted to drown out the noise of Rebbi’s cries.
The Gemara then says something startling about why Rabbi Yehuda was punished with this painful illness. Once, as he walking in the market, a calf ran over to him and tried hiding underneath the Rabbi’s cloak. The shohet (slaughterer) was coming to slaughter the calf for meat, and the terrified calf sought refuge with Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi. The Rabbi said to the animal, “Go be slaughtered, because this is what you were created for.” For this slight insensitivity to the fear of a young calf, the Gemara says, Rebbi was punished with thirteen years of intense pain and suffering.
His illness was cured, the Gemara adds, when he showed special compassion for animals. Once he saw his housekeeper chasing mice out of the house as she cleaned, and he told her to leave the mice alone, citing a pasuk describing how Hashem has compassion for all His creatures. This act of kindness to animals corrected the slight display of insensitivity to the calf, and Rebbi was cured.
I believe there is a powerful message conveyed by these stories. When people become wealthy and famous, they often begin believing that they are more important than, and superior to, others. We are innately programmed to perceive wealth as a barometer of a person’s worth and importance, and so when a person achieves wealth, he automatically senses a degree of superiority – and other people confirm his beliefs by looking to him and treating him with special honor. This is the way people are. And this was the message being taught to Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi. As an exceptionally wealthy person, he needed to be shown that everybody – and even every creature – is important. Wealthy people should not look upon others as less important than them. Everybody and everything in Hashem’s world is important and significant. People with a lot of money should not look down on those without a lot of money, and those without a lot of money should not look down on themselves. Financial status has absolutely nothing at all to do with a person’s importance. And this is why it was so important specifically for somebody like Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi to show mercy and sensitivity to calves and mice – so he avoids the tendency of wealthy, famous people to view themselves as more important than other people.
Everybody is Our Boss
I once had a student intern working with me in Magen David, where I teach. I decided that every day, I would sit down with him and teach him one short lesson that I learned from my experience in the field. One day, I told him that a person always has to treat his boss with respect, to always be a team player, do things the way the boss wants him to, avoid arguing with him, and to make it clear that he wants to please him. I then ended by saying, “And you know who your boss is? I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
The next day, I sat down with the intern to continue the conversation. “You know who your boss is? Everybody is your boss. Everybody, every person, can profoundly impact your life.” Every person, regardless of his socioeconomic status, and regardless of any formal position he holds, can have a very significant impact upon our lives.
As just one small example, I used to speak in Shaare Zion on Friday nights from time to time. There was a certain man who, invariably, would get up and walk out each and every time I stood up to speak. As it turned out, he profoundly impacted my life. The synagogue was once arranging a special event, and at the meeting this fellow suggested that I be invited to speak at the event. I did, and this led to my being asked to speak every other week at Shaare Zion. I did not know this man at all, he did not seem to be an important person in my life by any means, yet he affected my life in a very significant way. This happens so often. People whom we never considered important end up having an enormous impact on our lives, for better or for worse. And so we should be treating every person as our “boss,” as somebody important, even if he is not a person of wealth or prestige.
There is a fable told of a lion that got caught in a hunter’s net, and couldn’t get out. Just then, a small mouse was walking by. The lion called out to the mouse and asked for its help. The mouse gnawed at the net until there was a large enough hole for the lion to escape. The small, feeble mouse rescued the large, mighty lion. Everyone has a way to influence and impact other people. The mouse is no less important or powerful than the lion. Even those whom we might instinctively consider unimportant can end up helping us in very significant ways, and so we should be treating all people with respect and sensitivity.
This is much harder than it seems. I have had countless conversations with people who told me something to the effect of, “If I was a billionaire, the tuition crisis in our community would be solved. What else would I do with all that money? It’s obvious that I would use it to support our schools and other institutions. I just can’t understand why the wealthy people in our community don’t do that.” People who say this and think this – and many of us do – don’t understand the great moral and spiritual challenge of being wealthy, how strong the tendency is to get caught up in one’s money and obsess over it. When a person works very hard for many years to build a fortune, he gets attached to it. He feels the need to enjoy it to its fullest, and he feels superior to other people. This is just human nature, the way people are programmed. Most of us will never have a chance to experience this moral challenge of affluence, and so we cannot understand it. But it exists.
This is likely why Antoninus was so fond of Rebbi, and showed him such reverence. The Gemara says that Antoninus would secretly study Torah from Rebbi, and showed him great respect. Antoninus was probably the wealthiest and most powerful human being alive at that time, and so he knew the natural tendency of wealthy people to look down on others. Therefore, knowing as well as anyone what it’s like to be rich and famous, he was awed by Rabbi Yehuda Ha’nasi, by his character, his sensitivity, his compassion, his decency, his idealism, and his care and concern for all people.
There is a direct link between this quality of Rebbi – his sensitivity to all people, and even to all creatures – and his proclamation before his death that he never obsessed over his wealth. The reason why we tend to perceive wealthy people as more important than us is the same reason why we obsess over finances – because we overprioritize money, we put it at the center of our minds and are constantly preoccupied by this subject. We constantly talk about money because we have placed money at the top of our priority scales, making it the most important thing in life. And when we look at the world this way, then we naturally consider wealthy people more important than other people.
“Eternity”
I would like to conclude with a brief but powerful story, which succinctly captures this message, and gives us a proper perspective on the topic of money and wealth.
There was once a yeshiva student named Nachman who lived a “double life” of sorts. He learned in yeshiva by day, but by night, he played the drums in different nightclubs, under the name Neil. He was an excellent drummer, and he wanted to nurture this hobby alongside his yeshiva studies. Unfortunately, he chose to pursue this hobby in a most inappropriate way, spending his nights in places where no Torah Jew should be.
One night, in between sets, a man approached Neil and introduced himself as the manager of a famous band.
“You have a very special talent,” the man said to Nachman, “and I want to invite you to come audition for my band.”
Nachman couldn’t believe his ears. This was an incredible opportunity to jumpstart a successful music career. He took down the details, and went to the audition several days later. The manager was dazzled, and offered him the job right there and then.
They met the following day, and the man handed Nachman the contract to sign. He added, “Our first performance is this Friday night. You need to be there.”
Nachman shuddered. This was a chance of a lifetime, but he had always observed Shabbat. Although he was certainly not the most serious yeshiva student, he was born and raised in an observant home and had never considered violating Shabbat.
Torn and confused, he went to see his Rabbi, and he explained to him why he felt so conflicted. He explained to him what a rare, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity he had, and how hard it would be for him to turn it down. The Rabbi, wisely, chose not to react with shock, or to lecture the boy about the importance of Shabbat. Instead, he instructed the boy to go home, take a piece a paper, and draw a line down the middle. On one side, he should list all the pros – the reasons to accept the job – and on the other side, all the cons – the reasons not to. The Rabbi told the boy to come back the next day and show him the paper.
The boy returned the following day. With tears in his eyes, he told the Rabbi he did not sign the contract. He handed the Rabbi the paper. Under the “pros” column, he listed some ten benefits to accepting the job. In the other column, he wrote just one word: “Eternity.”
The boy immediately applied to a yeshiva in Israel, he went to study for several years, and became an outstanding ben Torah.
There are many benefits to material prosperity. It offers a person many comforts, conveniences, joys, and opportunities. But it cannot offer us eternity. And so we need to put the importance of money and wealth into perspective. It’s not worth obsessing over. Again, it is perfectly legitimate to want to earn a lot of money, to work hard to earn a lot of money, and to enjoy one’s money. But it is not legitimate to allow this pursuit take over one’s life to the point where he speaks and thinks about it all the time, and it is the primary point of focus of everything he does.
So let’s stop talking about money all the time. Let’s start appreciating people’s character and qualities, rather than talking only about their net worth. Let’s walk away from weddings feeling happy for the couple and their families, rather than calculating how much they must have paid. Let’s use the Shabbat table as a time to strengthen the bonds with our family members, and to share words of Torah, rather than as a time to discuss what other people are buying. And let us enjoy our material blessings without making them the focal point of our lives, and focus our attention instead on the areas of life that really matter and that remain with us for all eternity.