Financial Planning
Chapter 5, Law 12
"It is forbidden for a person to renounce possession of or to sanctify his
property (to the Temple or sacred causes) and [as a result] make himself a
burden on society (lit., 'trouble the people'). He should not sell his
field and buy a house, nor [sell] a house and buy movable property, nor do
business with the worth of his house (i.e., with the proceeds from selling
his house). Rather, he should sell his movable property and buy a field.
The rule of the matter is that a person should make it his aim that his
property be profitable (lit., 'to be successful with his property') -- not
to appear a little well-off for a short time or benefit a little and
[then] lose much."
The Rambam's simple business advice this week is readily understandable. A
person should look towards long-term solvency and stability, holding on to
his most secure assets. Under ordinary circumstances, he must not trade in
any such of his belongings for short-term profit -- such as his field for
a house, his house for movable goods, etc. And certainly, he must not just
dispense with his goods so as not to be bothered with them. We must treat
all that which G-d has blessed us with responsibly, making the best use of
whatever we have, in order to enable us to serve G-d properly.
Although the Rambam devoted this chapter of his work to laws applicable to
the Torah scholar, the Rambam presents this law generically, since clearly
it is of universal application. Based on this, it's actually not that
clear why the Rambam places this law in this chapter altogether. I
believe, however, aspects of this law have particular relevance to the
Torah scholar, as we'll explain below.
The Rambam began by stating that a person must not give away all his
possessions. We would tend to view such behavior as deranged. In fact, one
of the Talmud's descriptions of a madman is one who destroys valuable
property (Chagigah 4a). Yet perhaps the Rambam felt special need to warn
Torah scholars about it. There is a strong notion among spiritual people
(of virtually all religions) that the truly devout eschew all involvement
with this world -- especially with something so seductive and corrupting
as money. Owning money, managing and investing it, would surely sully a
pure spirit with one of the worst and most mundane elements of the
material world. Better to wash your hands to it entirely and devote
yourself truly to G-d.
Needless to say, although undercurrents of this notion certainly exist in
Judaism -- that only poor people are truly pious, the Rambam makes it
quite clear that such behavior is reckless to an extreme. Giving away all
of one's wealth will do little more than turn him into a burden upon
society -- who will have to pick up the pious pieces in order to keep
this "holy" Jew from starving. There is nothing virtuous about making
oneself dependent upon the charitableness and good will of others. Pirkei
Avos (3:21) states it succinctly: " If there is no flour there is no
Torah" <).
As an important aside, the Rambam is well-known for having strongly
opposed people who devote themselves entirely to Torah study without a
means of support. He absolutely rails against such behavior in his Laws of
Torah Study (3:10), as well as in his commentary to Pirkei Avos (4:7). The Rambam appears
to oppose even a community judge, rabbi or school teacher receiving a
salary. Many authorities, however, contemporary to the Rambam and later,
dispute his position and allow not only professional rabbis to draw a
salary, but scholars in training to do so as well. There are many good and
comprehensive discussions of this matter (one which to this day is still
controversial), but they are beyond the scope of this article.
There is an interesting seemingly-contradictory statement in the Talmud
(Sotah 48b): "Whoever has bread in his basket and says 'What will I eat
tomorrow?' is none other than one of little faith." The implication,
clearly, is that one who truly trusts in G-d will not worry beyond the
coming meal. All he needs concern himself is about today; beyond that is
needless and unreasonable long-term speculation. There's more than enough
time for the good L-rd to find a way to provide for him by then. And as
the Manna in the desert, attempting to save from today to tomorrow
evidences a terrible lack of true faith.
The answer to this is that the Talmud did not say one should not *plan*
for his future, just that he should not *worry* about it. In terms of
planning, we must obviously do whatever is reasonable to assure our
ongoing self-sufficiency. Invest in holdings which will give you steady
returns; learn job skills which will afford you long-term marketability.
Pirkei Avos (2:13 www.torah.org/learning/pirkei-avos/chapter2-13b.html)
praises the quality of seeing consequences, of recognizing the long-term
effects of our decisions, and likewise condemns one who borrows having no
clue how he will repay his debts (pirkei avos 2-14a). There is no room for a responsible person to
liquidate his assets for some quick and transient cash, or to live for the
immediate to the detriment of his future viability.
In terms of faith, however, our attitude must be entirely different. If we
are solvent today, we must not fret about tomorrow, getting ourselves
worked up over what the future will bring. Every day is a new challenge.
And just as we must pray to G-d daily for Divine assistance, we must turn
to Him every day for yet another gift of life, health and success. Our
attitude must never be that we want to be sure *today* that we can cover
all future expenses -- so that we will never again have to turn to G-d. We
should certainly see to it that we today have the *means* of earning
tomorrow's wages, but there are no shortcuts to long-term solvency -- nor
excuses not to pray to G-d daily for heavenly deliverance. King Solomon
wrote, "Do not boast about the morrow, for you do not know what today will
bring" (Proverbs 27:1). Enough can and will occur between today and
tomorrow that tomorrow is, to quote the Talmud's expression, agonizing
over a world which isn't yours (Sanhedrin 100b).
(Of course, such an ideal is not entirely practical today -- if for
example you know you need to save up for your children's education or
weddings or your own retirement, etc. (Once upon a time (not actually all
that long ago), people didn't really expect to live long enough to retire.
And if they merited it, their children and extended family would provide
both their physical and financial support. Nest-egg retirement savings
plans are a fairly recent innovation.)
Even so, our overall message this week is a very important one. We all
know people who saved diligently over the years to ensure their own future
or that of their descendants -- only to have the vast majority of it lost
in the final few months of an elderly parent's terminal illness. (Some
define a Jewish grandfather as one who wants to see to it that his
grandchildren never have to do a day's work their entire lives.) For that
matter, King Solomon was *not* a fan of saving vast sums for one's
descendants to inherit -- see for example Koheles (Ecclesiastes) 2:18-19.
See also the work _Ahavas Chesed_ (_Loving Kindness_), II:14, in which the
Chofetz Chaim sees this as a very flimsy excuse for not giving sufficient
charity oneself.)
I'll wrap up this week with a sharp thought I saw in the name of R. Zev
Leff (www.rabbileff.net, well-known educator and lecturer of Moshav
Matisyahu, Israel). What is the evil of the fellow who has bread in his
basket today yet worries about tomorrow? It's that the fact that the only
reason he *isn't* worried about today is the bread. Thus, clearly, the
fellow is not truly trusting in G-d. He trusts only what he sees before
his eyes. He wants bread in his stomach, not some heavenly promise of
Divine providence. And this is far from the ideal. To be sure, one must
plan responsibly for his future and never squander his life savings. But
we must recognize that our own exertions are only the requisite effort we
must make. Ultimately, our success, as well as that of our children,
depends on none other than G-d.
Text Copyright © 2009 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org