Rabbi Benayahu Shmueli, Head of the Yeshiva - Sensitivity to Property and Human Dignity

The following is based on part of Rabbi Benayahu Shmueli's Hebrew Chizuk video for the 2nd of Cheshvan 5787

1. Lessons on Consecrated Funds: A Driver, a Sage, and a Future Dean

This level of extreme care and scrupulousness regarding money was impressed upon me early in my life.

When I was a young married scholar (avreich) studying at Porat Yosef Yeshiva, I served as a morning supervisor from 8:00 to 9:00 AM at the Talmud Torah of Rabbi Shlomo Cohen. Each morning, the school's car would drop off the young students. Riding along in that car was the venerable sage Chacham Ben-Zion Abba Shaul! As the children disembarked at the Talmud Torah, the Rabbi would continue in the car on his way to Porat Yosef Yeshiva, and I would join him for the ride.

One morning during our commute, Chacham Ben-Zion was conversing with the driver—a short Yemenite gentleman whose name escapes me, but who was an exceptionally pleasant person whom the Rabbi loved dearly. The driver often posed questions to the Rabbi, and on this occasion, he brought up a monetary matter.

The Rabbi asked him, "And what does the Rabbi say?"

The driver answered with simple sincerity: "I have never taken or touched money that isn't mine. Charity money—I have never touched it. Whatever isn't rightfully due to me, I do not touch."

I sat nearby listening, and Chacham Ben-Zion turned and looked straight at me. As a young scholar at the time, I truly did not understand what the Rabbi was trying to convey. I thought to myself: What does this mean? Did I take something, or did that person take something? Who takes money that isn't theirs?

Reading my confusion, Chacham Ben-Zion explained: "He is speaking of consecrated funds (Hekdesh)! The money of Hekdesh is in my hands. Charity money passes through my hands, yet I refrain from taking anything that isn't due to me."

Even then, the full depth of his words did not immediately sink in. Chacham Ben-Zion had intentionally played that conversation to my ears for the sake of my future. Years later, when I assumed my responsibilities here as Rosh Yeshiva (Dean), vast amounts of institutional and charity money began passing through my hands. In such a role, expenses constantly arise—paying for electricity, water, and operating costs. The subtle temptation always exists to rationalize: "Listen, money is also owed to me; I'll just take a little from the Yeshiva's funds."

Only then did I finally realize what the Rabbi was telling me! It was a test! When public charity funds pass through your hands, it is a profound spiritual test. Look at the extraordinary care and foresight the Dean demonstrated, using that brief moment to teach me how careful a person must be with money.

2. Sensitivity to Property and Human Dignity

This commitment to honesty extends to the smallest boundaries of another person's property and feelings.

Rabbi Shteinman once spoke to a rabbi who was traveling abroad to a distant place. He asked him, "While you are traveling, will you pass near such-and-such a place?"

The rabbi responded that he would.

Rabbi Shteinman then requested: "Please, pass by a specific house, on a specific street, at a specific house number, belonging to a specific family. Once, long ago, I passed near their house, and unintentionally, a flower caught on my clothes and detached from their tree. To this day, I do not know what to do. Please ask their forgiveness on my behalf for that flower that fell because of my clothes."

Consider also the great rabbi in the ghetto during the Holocaust who, for several years, refused to sit on a chair. His reason? He feared that the chairs belonged to people whose possessions had been stolen or confiscated from them. He felt it was deeply degrading for a person to sit in a place where stolen property was involved.

This conscientiousness applies not only to tangible property, but to human sensitivity as well. Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian was known to attend bar mitzvah celebrations on Shabbat, stay for a minute or two during Kiddush, and then depart. On one occasion, however, he stayed continuously while the guests were already leaving.

Once everyone was ready to leave, he asked for the lady of the house and called her over. He said to her: "Look, mazel tov to you, and I ask your forgiveness. My hand shook, and when I made Kiddush, the wine spilled on the tablecloth. I soiled the clean, beautiful tablecloth you prepared in honor of your guests, right during Kiddush, so I wanted to stay and ask for your forgiveness."

3. The Weight of an Unpaid Coin

Yet, people do not always learn the proper caution regarding monetary matters from such examples.

Rabbi Ben-Zion Feldman related that the Chazon Ish always spoke to him about a certain person from whom he had once borrowed a single prutah (a small coin of minimal value). The Chazon Ish would constantly express anguish, saying, "I haven't returned that prutah to him," though he did not even know who the person was.

When the Chazon Ish passed away and a massive crowd gathered for the funeral, a secular bystander came by and asked what had happened. Upon hearing that the Chazon Ish had passed away, the man suddenly realized the connection: he was owed a prutah, as the Rabbi had once borrowed a prutah from him.

As soon as Rabbi Ben-Zion Feldman heard this, he stepped forward and returned the prutah to the man. Reflecting on this, he remarked: "See how the Rabbi constantly remembered that he owed someone a prutah and worried about it continuously." Where are we compared to that level of honesty?

A similar story is told of the Chafetz Chaim after he got married and ran a grocery store to make a living. A gentile woman came in to buy salted fish, completed the purchase, but walked out and forgot to take her fish.

When the Chafetz Chaim saw this, he did not know who she was, but he immediately ran after her to trace where she went. He discovered that she lived in a completely different neighborhood. To make sure no dishonest gain remained in his possession, he took his own coins, bought salted fish, and distributed it throughout her entire neighborhood. He refused to benefit from or use money that was not entirely clear of any unjust gain.

4. Heavenly Accounting Beyond This World

Here in Jerusalem, a tragic event illustrated how strictly monetary obligations are recorded in Heaven. On Wednesday night, the 22nd of Av 5763, a terror attack occurred on the No. 2 bus line (Kav-2) when a suicide bomber blew himself up, taking the lives of 22 people. Among those killed was the dedicated educator Rabbi Chanoch Segal, who lived on Chazon Ish Street in Bnei Brak.

Prior to a subsequent month of Av, Rabbi Segal appeared in a dream to one of his family members. In the dream, he was standing next to the bookcase in his home, holding a note written in large, clear letters bearing the number "Five."

Rabbi Segal explained in the dream that this "five" referred to five Israeli pounds, which was equivalent to 14 shekels in contemporary currency, and that this debt was owed to someone named Wein.

The family members awoke from their sleep, waited until morning light, and quickly traveled with the Rabbanit to make a connection. They recounted the dream and set out to find who "Wein" might be, but their initial efforts were unsuccessful.

Recalling the dream's detail that it was originally five Israeli pounds—an old currency—they realized it might not be a current neighbor, but an old-timer from years past. Following up on their inquiries, they eventually arrived at a synagogue of Slovakian immigrants. There, they identified an individual from whom Rabbi Segal had indeed borrowed five Israeli pounds full 24 years earlier, which he now wished for them to return.