Preparing for Passover

     March 27, 2009
Rabbi Seymour Rossel

     No one can doubt that our economy is going through hard times -- hard times that not only affect us but have a deep impact on economies throughout the world. We are fortunate enough to live in Texas where the impact has been less severe than in many other places, but that does not mean that we do not feel the impact. Part of the problem has to do with trust. Banks must trust that the loans they make will be repaid, but in the recent past banks have made "iffy" loans and placed their trust taking out insurance against their risks of loss. When the less-than-worthy loans could not be repaid, the insurance was supposed to protect the banks, but instead the insurance itself could not be repaid. The whole system lost trust -- the banks lost trust in the people they had loaned money to and they began to foreclose on their "iffy loans," the rapid foreclosures caused people to lose trust in the banks, and when the banks turned to the insurance companies who had guaranteed them against loss, the insurance companies were unable to fulfill their part of the trust. Now it seems that even huge amounts of money cannot restore the system to balance but, as it turns out, more than money is at stake. Our trust in one another and our trust in our institutions must be restored.

     In these times, people think twice about giving charity. They know that the good causes they have been supporting for many years continue to need their support, yet they worry about feeding their own families and clothing their own children. And who can blame them?

     But charity, too, is a matter of trust. Those who have something to give today, may be in need of charity tomorrow. Those who need help today, may be able to give help tomorrow. Therefore, we Jews do not speak of charity and God does not demand that we give charity. God demands that we give tzedakah, "righteousness," so that we may be assured that, in our hour of need, it will be our "righteousness" which will be repaid. Perhaps it is difficult to see the difference at first, so I will share a story with you that may make it clearer.

     Once there lived a certain Reb Yechiel, a wealthy merchant, who never gave charity. Nonetheless, you could depend on Reb Yechiel's "righteousness." When a needy Jew came to Reb Yechiel, the merchant would give the Jew what he thought was necessary, saying, "I never give charity. This is a loan. In God's good time, you will pay me back -- you can pay me in a lump sum or in installments, whatever you think best. And, if I am no longer here, you will take care to give the money back to someone else."

     Now, one evening, when Reb Yechiel returned home and entered his doorway, he was shocked to discover a stranger in his house. As Yechiel approached, the stranger's face turned white; and Yechiel immediately saw that the stranger was hiding something beneath his coat. It seemed obvious that this was not a professional thief, but a poor Jew who had given in to temptation. He had stolen something.

     But Reb Yechiel faced the surprised stranger with a friendly smile. "I see that you have come to borrow some money," he said, "and that you have brought something of value with you to offer as security for the loan. Would you be kind enough to show me what you brought?"

     Slowly, the thief removed two gold Sabbath candlesticks from under his coat and placed them on the table. Reb Yechiel sat down and studied them carefully, as if he had never seen them before. "These are worthy items," he said. "How much do you think I should lend you against these?"

     But the stranger was speechless. His mind said "Flee!" but his feet seemed nailed to the floor.

     "I will tell you what," Reb Yechiel went on. "I will speak for you. All you have to do is nod or shake your head. So, let's see, Passover is coming and you probably need money for matzah. Am I correct?"

     The stranger nodded.

     "That was easy," Reb Yechiel said, "The next is more of a wild guess. Do you have a daughter at home, one who wants to be married but has no dowry?"

     The stranger nodded and started to weep.

     Reb Yechiel said, "Come, now. I am here to give you a loan, not to put up with tears. Kindly compose yourself, and let's do business as equals."

     When the stranger ceased his weeping, Reb Yechiel went on, saying: "I think you might sell these candlesticks for thirty-five or forty rubles. I'll lend you thirty -- all right, I'll make it forty rubles. Fifteen rubles will be enough for Passover, another fifteen will be enough for a dowry for your daughter, and you can use the extra ten rubles for a wedding dress. I am sure that whatever else you need, God will provide. Please understand: I never give charity. This is a loan. In God's good time, you will pay me back -- you can pay me in a lump sum or in installments, whatever you think best. And, if I am no longer here, you will take care to give the money back to someone else."

     That night, the would-be thief left Reb Yechiel's house with forty rubles in his hand, a loan of forty rubles he had secured with Reb Yechiel's own candlesticks!

     We Jews never give charity. Whether you are giving money to Mazon to help the needy to have food and matzah on Passover, or giving money to help the victims of Ike, or making a contribution to CJCN, you are always giving tzedakah, "righteousness." Tzedakah is a trust that we share with one another and with Jews all over the world. Like Reb Yechiel, whatever tzedakah you give is always given on trust, as a loan. If it is never repaid to you, if you are fortunate enough never to need it, it still must be repaid to someone else who is in need. And, if ever you are in need, you can trust that the tzedakah you have given will be repaid to you.

     No Jew can sit down at the Passover table and say the words of the Haggadah, "Let all who are hungry come and eat," without first doing something to earn the trust that is implied in that command. Now is a good time to be like RebYechiel, to send forth your trust into the world by giving tzedakah to help feed others. There are envelopes in the lobby, already addressed to Mazon, ready for you to make your loan in any amount large or small. Pick up an envelope. It is not enough to come to synagogue and pray for the world to change. It is up to each and every Jew -- it is up to you -- to do something positive to make the world change. This is what we call tzedakah. It will transform your Passover into the kind of feast that it should be, a celebration of righteousness. And let us say: Amen.