Who Owns Whom? On Being the Master of Your Money

A few years ago I sat with a wealthy man. I asked him, “How big a check could you write me right now?” He smiled and said, “The bank would cover me even for fifty million dollars.” I said to him, “Eight hundred dollars.” He laughed. I told him, “That is not what I asked. The question is not what you have in your account. The question is this: do you own the money, or does the money own you?” Put this question in front of you, my dear friend. How can it be that a man whose bank account holds fifty million dollars can truly give only eight hundred? And the man who barely makes it to the end of the month, who cuts from his own poor man’s bread to give to charity, is he the greater of the two? How can that be? The Foundation In Ethics of the Fathers, a classic collection of our Sages’ sayings, we learn: “Who is rich? One who is happy with his lot.” The saying sounds simple. But it is truly very deep. It does not say “one who is satisfied with his lot.” It does not say “one who quietly accepts his lot.” It says “one who is happy.” Joy is movement. Joy bursts out. Joy expands. This means the truly rich person is not the one who has a lot. He is the one whose heart is wide toward what he has. And because his heart is wide, his hands are open. The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, teaches that the animal soul in a person, the side of us drawn to the physical and to ourselves, makes him a slave to his material life. The animal soul does not have to be crude. It is enough that the heart is “closed.” When a man’s money owns him, his heart is in chains, and the hands of his soul are chained along with it. He is a slave many times over: a slave to his bank account, a slave to his worries, a slave to his calculations. The big check he cannot write is not a question of funds. It is a question of the soul. A Thought for Passover: “The Time of Our Freedom” Passover is called “the time of our freedom.” But true freedom is not only leaving the physical land of Egypt. It is leaving the “narrow places,” the tightness inside us. As the Hasidic book Likkutei Torah explains, the Hebrew name for Egypt hints at narrowness, at a “narrow heart.” Redemption is the heart opening wide. Maybe you say, “I can’t afford the costs of Passover this year.” Then ask yourself: is this a problem of budget, or a problem of the heart? Sometimes the money pressure is only a symptom. It shows that money rules us more than we rule it. That is the “Egypt” we need to leave. And we leave it not only by wearing a white shirt at the Passover night meal, but by taking action. The Depth of Giving: “Open, You Shall Open” The Torah says: “Open, you shall open your hand.” The word “open” appears twice. Two openings. Opening the hand is the outer giving. Opening the inner will is giving from a whole heart. The Zohar, the classic book of Jewish mysticism, teaches that a hand opened below opens blessing and abundance from above. But here is the secret: the open hand begins with an open heart. In the language of the Tanya, giving is an act of subduing the dark side. It bends the animal soul, whose whole nature says “mine.” And when we bend it, a turnaround follows: the selfish nature is transformed into love for others. Giving, especially when it pinches a little, does more than help the poor. It is a key to our own freedom. The big check is not the piece of paper with many zeros on it. The big check is the one written with an open hand, from an open heart, even if the amount is small.