Forced Redistribution of Wealth (Parshas Emor)

I Samuel Benjamin Cohen being of sound mind and body hereby declare this to be my last will and testament. To my son Sheldon, I leave $1 million. To my daughter Jane, I leave $1 million. To my loving wife, I leave whatever is not in her name already, $2 million. To my brother-in-law Louie, who said I would never mention him in my will, HELLO LOUIE. IT'S AN OLD IT'S AN OLD ONE. OKAY. Why Why am I telling you this? Because question is like this. If you don't want to give money to Louie, do you have to give money to Louie? We know you're not allowed to just keep all your money. You're not allowed to be a miser. You're not allowed to hoard your money. You have to be generous. I mean there's It's a mitzvah. Which by the way is forced redistribution of wealth. According, yeah? Don't get scared. It comes from Torah. Yeah. The question is this. I know I'm forced to give away some of my possessions, some of my wealth. Question is, do I get to choose the recipient? And the answer is generally speaking, yes. So, let's say you don't like Louie. Poor Louie, but he's He's not a real guy. He's just a guy in a joke. Don't Don't get nervous. So, you don't have to give to Louie. And there's a concept called toyvas hana'ah. Toyvas hana'ah is a benefit. I'm going to be a little bit legalistic for a second. Is a benefit that a person has, a right that a person has, even when he's in a situation where he is obligated to give away his property, but he retains one aspect of Let's call balabatishkeit, ownership over it, which is I may be forced to give this away, but I can be choosy. So, for instance, I'll give you a classic example. The ma'aser that goes to the Leviim. So, a Levi shows up. I'm a farmer. The Levi shows up and says, I'm claiming some of the the tithe, the tenth, the ma'aser of your grain. And I could say to him, I'm obligated as a Jew to give this tithe, and I'm obligated to give to give it to a Levi, but you don't have to be the Levi. I don't like you. I'll give it to another Levi. I'll give it to your cousin. That's called toyvas hana'ah. The the right to be able to choose, even when Torah forces me to give, that I get to choose who it goes to. Okay. So, in this week's parsha, I just want you to take that idea and shelve it. That was like background that you needed to have before we get into this. This week's parsha, in the fourth aliyah, all of a sudden, seemingly seemingly a non sequitur actually, because the context is it's talking about the Yomim Tovim. It's talking about the Jewish calendar and all the different holidays throughout the year. Then out of seemingly out of the blue, we're told about the mitzvahs of leket and pe'ah. These are agricultural mitzvahs. Leket are the sheaves that fall when you're trying to bring the crop back into from the field and you you drop some. Um you're not allowed to go back and pick them up. You have to leave them for the poor to claim. And pe'ah is the corner of the field or a portion of the field which you don't harvest, you leave for the poor to claim. Anyways, so we read about this mitzvah seemingly in the middle like non sequitur out of the blue in the middle of a discussion about the holidays. And Rashi tells us that this was addressed This question was addressed by our sages. There's also another question here. Not only why why is leket and pe'ah coming up seemingly out of context, but why is it coming up again? Because we had it last week. We had it in the We had it in Kedoshim. So, we already had it. It's coming up again and it's coming up seemingly out of context. So, Rashi tells us l'meidecha, this is to teach you, meaning the juxtaposition has a meaning, is to teach you shekol hanaysein leket shechol pe'ah lo ani karai. Anyone who properly gives these particular agricultural gifts to a pauper, ma'alin alav, it is considered as if ke'ilu as if boneh bayis or boneh bayis hamikdash, he he he built the bayis hamikdash, the holy temple in in Jerusalem, v'hikriv alav korbanosav, and brought its proper sacrificial offerings there, pesachai, in it. It's interesting. On on the Yomim Tovim, you go to the bayis hamikdash and you bring korbanos. I mean, it's hard for us to relate to. We think of on on Yom Tov you sit at home with your family and you eat more and you Right. But the times the real original Yiddishkeit and and may it come very very soon with Mashiach, Yom Tov means bayis hamikdash. It means korbanos. You're going to the temple and you're bringing sacrifices. So, Rashi says like this, why does this mitzvah, this agricultural mitzvah, come up in the middle of a discussion of the holidays to tell you that just like on the holidays you go to the bayis hamikdash and you bring sacrifices, so too when you do this mitzvah properly of leaving the the leket and the pe'ah for the poor, it's like you built the bayis hamikdash and you went there and you brought the proper sacrifices. Okay. But we have a question on that. We have a question on that, which is why specifically leket and pe'ah? I mean, why not any tzedakah? There's a lot of different types of tzedakah. If I take ma'aser from my paycheck, if I take a tithe, is that Is Is that not also included? Or what about regular ma'aser, you know, like what we were talking about before to the Leviim. Why specifically leket and pe'ah? That's one question. Another question is the the the the the moshol, the the analogy seems a little bit over elaborate. He doesn't just say, if you give those agricultural gifts to the poor, it's as if you brought a sacrifice. He says it's as if you as it's it is as if you built the temple and brought the sacrifices in it. Like what's with the building the temple? Why does that Why is that like Who builds That's not even a normal thing. You We call it comparing it to a thing that you don't even do. On a Yom Tov, which is the thing we're comparing it to, you go to the temple, which is already built, and you bring sacrifices. You don't build the temple. So, why why in the moshol does it say it's as if you built the temple and you brought the sacrifice? Okay. Anyways, you clear on the questions? Okay. So, I'm going to tell you a story. I did not hear from the person it happened to. I heard it from person who heard it from the person that it happened to. The person who I heard it from is Reb Dovid Sholom Pape in Crown Heights, who is uh the editor of the Mashiach Times, works for Tzivos Hashem, and he heard it from the person it happened to. Um Reb Dovid Sholom was a Rhodes Scholar. I don't know how they refer to it. Maybe he is a Rhodes Scholar. Maybe it's a lifetime title you bring with you. That's That means you're really really really smart and you were chosen to um go to England to go to Oxford. Uh it's basically Americans who are awarded a special scholarship to to study in Oxford. So, they're really really smart people. Anyways, so he was a Rhodes Scholar. And he spent some time in England. And when he was in England, so he met a lot of the the local community there. And he told me a story about This story is actually about the wife, but the way he told me it is first about the husband, that there was a there was a Jew named Avrohom Yitzchok Glock. In fact, if you go Google today Avrohom Yitzchok Glock, you're going to pull up a page of charitable foundations, because he was a big philanthropist and his charitable trusts are still active. He was very successful in business. He gave away a lot of money and in his name, tons of money continues to be given. This is by the way pertinent to the story. Big big big philanthropist. Okay. What was his story? He actually He was from Vienna, Austria. And in the 1930s, before World War II, he left. I'm not sure if he understood what was happening or for other reasons he left, but he left. And he went to England. And then he went to Eretz Yisrael. And in fact, he fought in the Haganah. And he had an interesting life. And then finally he came back to England. He made a business and he became very very very successful. He made a lot of money. Okay. Now, during all that time, he basically went away from Yiddishkeit. Um I mean, he was a proud Jew. Culturally identified Jewishly, but as far as the observance that he had been raised with, that was completely gone. And he married a woman who was another Holocaust survivor. Um in fact, she I mean, this is part of the story. She had lost her whole family in the Holocaust. And uh she was also completely non-observant. So, at the point when they got married the Yiddishkeit aspect was not relevant at all. They weren't neither of them were observant. Anyhow, this Mr. Glock met a Chabad Chassid Reb Yankel Gurkov. And this Reb Yankel started to learn with Mr. Glock Tanya. And he started to warm up to Chassidus. And eventually he became more observant. I mean, that's don't tell anyone the secret, but if you start learning a little Tanya and then, you know, before you know it, you're more observant than you had planned on being. And that's what happened to him. So, um this Mr. Glock, he wanted to meet the Rebbe. And it was arranged that he should go to Brooklyn, go to 770 and have Yechidus with the Rebbe. And he brought his wife with him. So, he was all excited cuz he already knew about the Rebbe and he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he And his wife wasn't so excited. She just kind of went along for the ride. And it was the middle of the night. They're going for Yechidus, which was, you know, a typical thing the Rebbe would meet with people all night long. All through the night. So, they they're going for the Yechidus in the middle of the night. And when they came out, I don't know what transpired in the first in the first Yechidus. I'm giving away the story by saying the first Yechidus. You're going to see. Uh they come out and Mr. Glock is just kvelling. He's saying, "Wasn't that amazing?" And his wife, I I I think to her credit, was very honest and she said, "No." He said, "You you weren't you weren't amazed?" And she said, "Didn't do anything for me." In fact, the word that she used It's funny because we always tell the stories about people went to Yechidus, they met the Rebbe, it changed their life immediately. Didn't always happen like that. Didn't always happen like that. She came out and he says, "Wasn't that amazing?" She said, "Mm." In fact, the words that she said, she said, "It left me cold." "It left me cold." That's what she said. She said, "It left me cold." But then, interestingly, she said to her husband, "Maybe Rabbi Groner would let me come in again." He said, "That's really unusual, but you know, a Jewish husband when his wife asks, right? So, when a when a Jewish husband gets sent back to the store, he doesn't ask, he goes back to the store. So, can we get another Yechidus with the Lubavitcher Rebbe right after we just left? What what are you going to do? Say no? So, he went to Rabbi Groner and he said, "My wife would like another Yechidus." So, I mean, she'd just come out minutes ago. So, Rabbi Groner asked the Rebbe, which is a miracle in and of itself, and the Rebbe agreed. He said, "Yes, send her in by yourself." So, she goes in and here's the conversation. First thing the Rebbe asks her, "Do you give tzedakah?" So, she says, "Yes. Yes, we give a lot of tzedakah." Now, remember, I told you that till this day the Avraham Yitzchak Glock Charitable Trust is active in giving out money. They gave a lot of money. And it wasn't just, you know, uh you know, they had some gatekeeper writing checks. People would come to their house. The Reb Dovid Sholom told me like if you would be in their house, there were people like all day long coming to the door, knocking at the door, and everyone had their story. Some were collecting for personal things, some were collecting for communal things, and they would No one would be turned away. They would give to everybody. They would And they gave they gave generously. So, the Rebbe asks her, "Do you give tzedakah?" She says, "Yes, all the time." So, the Rebbe asks her, "And what do you think while you're giving the tzedakah?" So, she says, "I think that I feel privileged that I'm able to help a person. And it feels good that I'm, you know, able to have this compassion and to help somebody." So, the Rebbe says to her, "If possible, I would like you to try to do something. From now on, when you give tzedakah, just try to think that you're doing Hashem's mitzvah." She said, "I think about I'm very privileged to be able to be generous, to help somebody, to be compassionate towards someone." The Rebbe says to her, "If you could, could you just try to focus on the fact that you're doing Hashem's mitzvah?" So, she wasn't exactly sure why this was important, why the Rebbe was asking. She said, "Yeah, I could do it." She comes out of the Yechidus. Her husband says, "How do you feel?" She says, "Actually, I feel warm." She I feel warm. Okay. And then in the ensuing days after that meeting, her life began to change and she just opened up and all of the the coldness I mean, she was she was she was a woman who'd been through She lost a family. I mean, she'd been through horrors and her heart was her heart was cold, but just started the the the ice started to melt and she came alive. So, it's very interesting like Okay, so first of all, how do you analyze a story about a tzaddik knowing exactly what to say to which person? I I'm not even going to try to, you know, do that. But just to take from it a lesson that we can relate to. What's the point of giving? Of course, when we give, we get that warm fuzzy. Of course. But and and we're not saying not to have the feeling. We're saying, "Is that the focus? Is that the motivation?" I'll tell you another story. It's a classic Chassidic story. It's the story of Nachum Chernobler. Reb Nachum Chernobler, the Me'or Einayim, who's one of the Talmidei HaMagid, Talmid of the Baal Shem Tov, one of the greats. Anyways, Reb Nachum Chernobler once he's uh he's at home and there's a knock at the door. So, he answers the door and there's a guy standing there. Now, he says, "I have no money. I'm I have to I have to marry off a daughter. You know, yeah, I have a financial crisis." And it's a, you know, real real sad story. So, Reb Nachum goes and gets some money. I don't know how much money he gave him. Gave him money. Okay. The guy thanks him. He leaves. Now, the guy goes on and you know, he's going door to door. He's collecting collecting. So, as the guy's going door to door, uh you know, he's now he's a few houses away from Reb Nachum's house, he hears footsteps pounding. And someone's running after him. He turns around. Who's running after him? Reb Nachum is running after him. So, he he's Reb Nachum, why what do you want from me? Why are you chasing me? Did I take something from your house that you're chasing me down? He says, "No, no, no. I have something to give you." He says, "Rebbe, uh if you don't remember, you just gave me. You just gave me." He said, "That was because when you came to the door and you told me your story, I felt bad for you. Now, let me do the mitzvah." And he gave him a second time. In other words, you came to the door, you told me your story, and I had a human response. The human response was, "How could you not help a person in this situation?" And I did the human thing. I I'm interpreting. I'm giving words to it. It's not not what Reb Nachum said. But I did the human thing and I gave to you. Like any decent human would do. But now that I did that, now that I got that out of the way, so to speak, now let me do the godly thing. Now, let me do the godly thing. Let me do the mitzvah. Let me give because God told me to give. Not because my human compassion has been stirred. So, there really is such a concept that even though giving is something that any compassionate civilized person values. And not just values in an abstract way, but on an emotional level, we feel good when we help people. Even though all that's true, and that's not bad, that's good. That's good that we're aligned with the mitzvah. But it can't be the central motivation and it can't be the focus. Now, let's let's talk about our original question. Cuz now I think it makes more sense. Remember, we're talking about the idea of Toivus Hanoh. They they I may not be able to choose whether I give, but I can choose to whom I give. Do we get to choose people and causes that we want to support? And the answer, generally speaking, is yes. Yes, of course you do. You earned it. You get to choose it. You can't keep it, but you can choose who you want to give to. Okay. However, on a certain level, that little bit of, let's call it, balabatishkeit, that little bit of control, gets in the way of the mitzvah. Because there's a feeling of I'm doing a favor. Look, look, don't forget, this isn't just God made me do it. There's a certain level of niceness here. I'm the good guy. You have to I chose I could have given to another Levy. I chose to give to you. So, I'm a good guy. Don't forget that I'm a good guy. Now, I'm not saying it comes out to that level of crassness, but on a very refined level the the the idea of toivus hana that I'm choosing who to be the recipient of the tzedakah that I'm anyways machuyav obligated to give can get in the way of the godliness and make it more human. Now, generally speaking, you are allowed to pick. We don't tell a person, "No, you can't pick." However, there are a couple of specific types of tzedakah where you have no toivus hana. You want to guess which specific gifts a person has no toivus hana? He does not get to choose which pauper receives? I mean, it's the these gifts. Leket shich'acha u'pe'ah. You're not allowed to tell a pauper, "Uh excuse me, I know that I'm not allowed to take this stuff, but you leave because there's another pauper that I like better and I want him to come get it." You're not allowed to do that. Specifically, these gifts. It's interesting, by the way. The Rambam in hilchos issurei bi'ah in perek yud daled halacha beis, he talks about what does a beis din tell a ger when a prospective convert comes to become Jewish? What does the rabbinical court tell them? So, there's different warnings that you try to scare them off and you say, "Don't you know how persecuted we are?" and all that stuff. But then you're supposed to the beis din, the rabbinical court, tell them a little bit about Yiddishkeit. I know you're saying, "Well, tell tell them now a little bit." Okay, they've been studying, but now is like the formal uh I guess uh you know, this I don't want to call it ceremonial because it's not it's not just a formality, but it it they it's it's sort of just to make sure this person, you know, has done their homework, they know what Yiddishkeit's about. So, it's interesting. The Rambam says, you tell them this is based on a Gemara Yevamos daf mem zayin amud aleph. And Rashi explains there, interesting, the reason. You tell them about the the Rambam uses the word ikrei hadas, fundamental concepts of the religion. And he says, "What do you tell them?" You tell them about leket shich'acha u'pe'ah. So, in that that you tell them that Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad. Right? You tell them leket shich'acha u'pe'ah. And Rashi explains over there, you know why? Because you have no toivus hana. In other words, if I can, you know, be homiletical for a second, when you want to tell someone what it means to be Jewish and you want to warn them what they're getting getting into, you say, "Listen, there are a lot of religions in the world and they all believe in good things and they all tell you to be a better person. I mean, that's what a religion is. But I just want to warn you something. Yiddishkeit is not just about being a better person. Cuz if we're just about being a better person, then it would be about cultivating your compassion and that's it. In Yiddishkeit, there's something beyond that, which is sometimes not about your compassion. Sometimes it's not about you. And there are going to be times when you're going to have to give and whether you feel good about it IS IRRELEVANT. WHETHER YOUR COMPASSION is stirred because of the particular cause of the plight of the particular individual, who we don't care. In fact, that even gets in the way. Like Mrs. Glock was saying, "Oh, I love giving, you know, I'm so into it." I mean, she didn't say that, but she said like, "What you know what? I I I I I I feel privileged. I" She she was describing she had an emotional connection to the mitzvah. And the Rebbe was like, "Nah, that's not it. Like, it's not about the emotional connection." And that the emotional connection is even getting in the way. And that's what helped her go from a cold heart to a warm heart. So, it's very counterintuitive cuz you would think, "No, that was the warm heart. If you just do it because God said, that's very cold." It's like the people who say, it's a little bit of a side topic, but you know, you ask people, "Do you love your family because you love your family or because God told you you love your family?" Well, that'd be very cold and robotic just to love them because God said so. And you know what? Uh in reality, no. Cuz you love them cuz you love them, there's a limit to it. And you know, sometimes they annoy you and then you love them less, right? Cuz basically, it's what works for you. But when you realize that Hashem gave you this obligation to take care of these people. We're really supposed to take care of everybody, but there's gradations of obligation. So, first thing is take care of your family. Now, it's like it has nothing to do with how I feel about it. It has nothing to do with whether I'm in the mood. This doesn't This is not about, you know, this not about if I like you. This is This is bigger than me. This is bigger than me. So, here's the thing. Normal giving, we let a person have toivus hana. We let them say, "Okay, I I may not get to choose whether I give, but I can choose the recipient." However, when it comes to farming, where you had to do all the work. See, you know, you make an investment, you have a business, you sell some merchandise. It's hard work, but farming is really hard work. And you plant to before you even plant, you you you call it plow you plow and you plant and you take care of the plants and you harvest it and then while you're harvesting it, you have to give some of it away. And it's like, all that work all that work. You're feeling like, "You know what? This is the psychology of it that Chazal understand. I put so much work into this. I know that I can't keep it all, but even when I give it away, after I put so much work into it, let me have a little control." And Torah comes along and says, "Actually, no. This is precisely when you get zero control. Because you feel I built this. This is mine. I did this. This is where dafka you can't even have the toivus hana. You can't even have the control to pick the recipient. If you would have worked a little less and been a little less invested, so then we would say, "You already know that it's not 100% yours." But when you put in so much effort like the farmer, he feels like, "I own this. This is mine." So, we come to him and say, "No, it's really not." And not only do you have to give away a certain portion, but when you give it away, you don't even get to pick the recipient. And that's why the the moshel is it's like someone built the Beis Hamikdash and brought sacrifices in it. Two aspects of that moshel, two aspects of that of that allegory are very important. You built it. You put in all that effort. Right? You didn't just, you know, fall into uh you know, you didn't just buy Bitcoin 10 years ago whenever it was. Right? I guess you could have even bought it a year ago and done well. But you you farmed, right? So, you built it. You built it. You put in work. And now you made a sacrifice. You sacrificed. What's the sacrifice? Not only you have to give some of it away. That I know. But when I give it away, I don't even pick a cause or an individual that tugs my heartstrings. So, this is a lesson to us in general about all giving. And really, the truth is about all mitzvahs. That of course, it's good to have an emotional, you know, a a human emotional connection to mitzvahs. That's great. But that can't limit it. That can't become the primary focus. What will carry us is the surrender, the sacrifice, realizing this is bigger than me. Now, I was just talking the other night to singles. They wanted, you know, to talk about marriage. And I said, "As long as you're getting married because you think it'll improve your life, you're making a big mistake. You have to get married because it's a mitzvah." And I got pushed back. "Oh, come on. Where's the Where's the emotions? Where Where's the romance? Where's" They said, "How We can't be on that level. Just to get married because it's a mitzvah?" But this is precisely the point of Judaism. And that's why they tell the prospective convert, "We're warning you what you're about to get into. This isn't the regular religion. Regular religion is about becoming a mensch. Yiddishkeit is becoming godly. So, it's not about becoming more compassionate. It is. I I don't want to say it's not, but I'm saying that's not the goal. That happens along the way to the goal. But the real goal is surrendering our our preferences and becoming totally bottle, totally transparent, surrendered. Like a clear conduit through which God's will just unobstructed just just flows through. And and and it's interesting. It's like even when you're doing a mitzvah, your humanity can get in the way. And And that's why Reb Nachman of Breslov chased the guy down cuz he knew that the first time he gave, that was save the whales. That was Habitat for Humanity. That's cuz there was a human reaction. And And And I'm not, by the way, putting it down. If you don't have that reaction, that's awful. Imagine a person who hears about the environment or an endangered species like, "I don't care." No, you should care. But, that can't be the end of it. That's along the way called being a normal human being, but then it has to go beyond where we're doing things not because it's it it it stirs our compassion. That And that's just a general guideline for all giving and really for every mitzvah, whether it's tfillin or Shabbos candles or Shabbos or kashrus, it's not about making my life better, it's not cuz I like it, not cuz I enjoy it, even if I do. Okay, I happen to enjoy it. But, it's really to be more godly, to be surrendered, to be aligned with God's will, to not get in the way.