Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof famously told G-d that if money is a curse, he would like G-d to smite him with it. This raises an important question. Is money a blessing or a curse?

The answer depends less on money than on us.

If you were content when you had little, but wealth placed you on the hedonic treadmill, then your money has become a curse. The more you own, the more you want. Yesterday you were happy with denim; today Gucci isn’t enough. Your clothes improved, but your peace of mind deteriorated.

Wealth can also become a curse by making us perpetual travelers. When you had little, you couldn’t afford to roam the world. You were always home, surrounded by friends, family, and community. Now January is in London, February in Rio, March in Davos, April in Tel Aviv. It sounds glamorous, but do you still have an anchor? You may own homes in every corner of the globe, but where are you truly at home? Sometimes the greatest luxury comes at the cost of belonging.

Or imagine that your wealth scattered your family. When you had little, everyone lived under one roof. The meals were modest, but the family experience was rich. Now one child lives on the Riviera, another on the ski slopes, a third in Dubai, and you sit alone in your palatial home. Does the extra space fulfill you, or does the silence drain your soul? Has your money become a prison that traps you?

A Story
When the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Shmuel Schneersohn, was visiting St. Petersburg, a Chasid complained that he was so poor he couldn’t afford to buy meat.

The Rebbe replied that the Talmud (Pesachim 49b) says an ignorant person should not eat meat. The Hebrew word assur means both “forbidden” and “bound.”[1]  The Rebbe smiled and suggested another way to read the passage: perhaps an ignorant person is not forbidden to eat meat; perhaps he is bound to it. “Who says,” the Rebbe concluded, “that you need meat?”[2]

The Rebbe was teaching that having the means to purchase every luxury doesn’t necessarily make us freer. Sometimes it does the opposite. The more we think we need, the more tightly we become bound to our possessions.

The same is true of almost everything in life. Is food a blessing or a curse? If we control it, it is a blessing. If it controls us, it becomes a curse.

Someone once asked the Lubavitcher Rebbe whether nuclear power was a good thing or a bad thing. The Rebbe answered with a question. Is a knife in your kitchen good or bad? If you use it to slice bread, it is good. If you use it to stab someone, it is evil. The tool itself is neither. Everything depends on how it is used.

Money is no different.

What’s In a Blessing?
This idea sheds new light on the opening verses of this week’s parshah.

“See, I place before you today blessing and curse. The blessing, that you obey the commandments of G-d your G-d; and the curse, if you do not obey the commandments of G-d, your G-d.” (Deuteronomy 11:26–28)

We usually assume that when G-d speaks of blessing and curse, He is referring to prosperity or poverty, health or illness, success or failure. But perhaps the blessing and the curse are often in the same thing.

Money itself is morally neutral. It can become either a blessing or a curse.

If wealth breeds arrogance, self-sufficiency, and self-centeredness, it distances us from G-d and becomes a curse. If we recognize that our wealth ultimately belongs to G-d, entrusted to us to support our families and help others, then money becomes a blessing.

The same holds true for health, success, and every other objective in life. If we use it to further our goals, it is a blessing; if it molds us into something we don’t like, it is a curse.

This explains the Torah’s statement that the blessing is that we obey G-d. The curse begins if we don’t obey G-d and use our resources instead to harm our wellbeing and other people’s welfare.

People with this perspective never become intoxicated by wealth. They understand that success is ultimately in G-d’s hands. Some people work harder and earn less; others work less and earn more. We make the effort, but the blessing comes from Above.

Such people provide generously for their family, give freely to worthy causes, and help those in need. They own their money, but they are never owned by it.

Ultimately, this is the choice that G-d places before us. Not whether we will have money, but whether money will bring us closer to Him or farther away. The blessing and the curse are not found in our bank account. They are found in our relationship with it.

A Story
In the pre WWI years in Warsaw, there was a  wealthy Chasid who delivered daily inspirational talks about trusting in G-d and being optimistic. A poor man who attended the synagogue often dismissed these talks. “Of course he speaks optimistically,” he would think. “He has money. Let him try living my life.”

Then tragedy struck. A fire destroyed the Chasid’s entire fortune in a single day.

That evening he appeared in synagogue and delivered his usual talk, filled with the same faith and optimism as always.

Unable to contain himself, the poor man approached him. “How can you remain so positive after losing everything?”

The Chasid answered with a lesson from Jewish law.

When we are called to the Torah, we must stand. We may lean lightly on the reading table, but we may not allow it to support our weight.

“I leaned on my wealth,” he said, “but I never rested my full weight on it. My support was always G-d.

“My money is gone,” he concluded. “My Supporter is still here.”[3]

[1] See Likutei Amarim chapter 8 for an explanation.

[2] See Sipurei Chasidim, Deuteronomy 12:20, p. 459.

[3] This essay is based on Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, LaTorah Ulamoadim, pp. 307–308.