Attitudes of the rich and successful Bava Basra 143-146

143

Spirituality Abhors a Vacuum

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses the Torah’s directive about the separation of Terumah from produce to be given to the Kohen. The verse reads:

“And you shall bear no sin by reason of it, seeing that you have set apart from it the best thereof” (Bamidbar 18:32).

The Gemara interprets this as a warning not to designate inferior produce as Terumah while retaining the superior portion for oneself. Yet, beyond this practical message, there is a deeper mystical idea at play here.

The Sefer Chana Ariel (Chukas 1) sheds light on the nature of tum’ah (ritual impurity). He explains that tum’ah is not merely a lack of holiness or secular status (chullin), but rather a more intense and negative state that arises from the sudden vacuum created when holiness departs. This explains why tum’ah often appears around death and loss of life, as the body, which once contained a holy soul, is left in a state of emptiness that invites impurity.

A physical analogy for this idea can be found in the sound of thunder. Thunder is caused by a sudden rush of air filling the vacuum created by the intense heat of lightning, which instantaneously incinerates a significant portion of air. Similarly, the vacuum left by the departure of something significant can be more damaging than mere absence. The Chana Ariel applies this concept to the mitzvah of Terumah. He suggests that one might worry that by sanctifying a portion of food, the remaining portion could become impure due to the “departure” of the holy portion. This concern is addressed by the Torah’s reassurance: “You shall bear no sin by reason of it.” Separating Terumah will not generate impurity in the remaining produce.

While Chana Ariel does not delve into why this effect does not occur, we might consider the nature of the produce before Terumah is separated. Prior to designation, the entire crop is not considered holy; rather, it is an undifferentiated whole that has the potential to be divided into holy and non-holy portions. In this sense, the separation of Terumah is not a loss of purity or sanctity, but simply a process of clarification and designation. It’s unlike the departure of a soul from a body, where a joint mission and sacred bond are severed, creating a vacuum of holiness that leads to tum’ah. In the case of Terumah, the act of separation is merely categorization, not the removal of a vital force, and thus it does not lead to impurity in the remainder.

This concept also carries a broader message: true impurity often arises not from something neutral or mundane but from the abrupt absence of sanctity, highlighting that in certain contexts, spirituality, like nature, “abhors a vacuum.”

144

Attitudes of the rich and successful

Our Gemara on Amud Beis explores the distribution of profits from inherited assets prior to dividing an estate. It discusses cases where one brother might contribute more effort or productivity, but the benefit may still be shared among all brothers if they’re supporting each other as part of a household. The Gemara states:

“If one of the brothers engaged in a trade of his own volition, the profits are his alone. The Sages taught in a baraisa (Tosefta 10:5): In the case of one of the brothers who was appointed as a tax collector or a military commander [polmustos], a position with the potential for profit, if he was appointed on account of all the brothers, any profit accrues to all the brothers. If he was appointed on account of himself, the profit accrues to himself.”

The Gemara probes this idea further, wondering why, if a brother is appointed on behalf of all, it isn’t obvious that his profits would also benefit all the brothers. The answer is that even if the brother was chosen due to his superior skills, if he was selected as a family representative, the profits are shared.

This discussion touches on a fundamental question: are individuals truly self-made, or does familial and social support often play a role in their success? Family often contributes in ways beyond financial capital—through social networks, emotional support, and even educational opportunities.

Donald Trump (may Hashem bless and protect him) famously illustrated this concept, remarking, “My father helped start me out with a small loan of $1 million, which I turned into an empire.” His statement underscores the complexity of assessing one’s success as purely self-made when family support—fiscal or otherwise—can be a considerable factor.

The underlying question here is whether the traits associated with wealth and success emerge because of financial security or whether those who succeed exhibit particular traits that drive their wealth accumulation. In a study by Leckelt et al. (2022), titled “The Personality Traits of Self-Made and Inherited Millionaires” (Humanities and Social Sciences Communications), researchers investigated the personality traits of those who amassed wealth on their own versus those who inherited it:

“It is currently unknown whether inheriting money and growing up rich leads to the development of a prototypical ‘rich’ personality profile, or whether a specific personality profile promotes self-made economic success.”

The study found striking differences between self-made millionaires and those with inherited wealth. Self-made individuals demonstrated high levels of risk tolerance, openness, extraversion, and conscientiousness, while scoring low in neuroticism. In contrast, inheritors exhibited low levels of risk tolerance, openness, extraversion, and conscientiousness, but higher levels of neuroticism.

These findings reflect common assumptions about wealth: those who earn their wealth often have to confront risks and demonstrate conscientiousness, skills that are honed through trial and perseverance. Their relative ease with risk-taking may reflect confidence gained through overcoming challenges. On the other hand, those who inherit wealth may lack exposure to the same hardships, which might lead to greater caution, lower risk tolerance, and even neuroticism due to fear of loss.

In light of the Gemara’s discussion, we see how Jewish law acknowledges both personal merit and communal bonds, requiring a balance between individual efforts and family contributions. The broader lesson is that while personal traits like confidence, conscientiousness, and risk tolerance are crucial to success, they do not exist in a vacuum. Family and social context play an often unseen but profound role in shaping these traits and the success they enable.

145

A good heart and good eyes

Our Gemara on Amud Beis references a verse in Mishlei (15:15): “A good heart is consistently drinking.” The Gemara interprets this to mean that a person with a “good heart” has a certain equanimity, a disposition that enables them to handle stress and challenges without becoming overwhelmed. Rather than a call for literal intoxication, the verse points to a state of inner resilience and composure.

Rav Uri Grossman, citing the teachings of Rav Shem Klinberg (Oholei Shem, Balak), highlights that only two organs are described as “good” in the Torah: the heart and the eyes. This connection between the heart and the eyes is profound, rooted in the Torah’s view of human desire. As Rashi (Bamidbar 15:9) quotes from Midrash Tanchuma, “The heart and the eyes are the ‘spies’ of the body — the eye sees, the heart covets, and the body commits the sin.” This hierarchy implies that the eyes, as the first to perceive, stimulate the heart’s desires, leading ultimately to action.

Thus, having a “good heart” also necessitates having “good eyes.” But what does this mean? One might assume that eyes are neutral observers, simply capturing images, neither good nor bad. However, this isn’t entirely accurate. Psychology and neuroscience suggest that perception is highly filtered and influenced by our attitudes and beliefs. Although our eyes capture all stimuli within sight, our minds selectively process and interpret what we see. For instance, visual illusions show how perception can be manipulated, and studies on auditory perception reveal that we tune in to certain sounds while ignoring others—like how we may hear our name called in a noisy room even if we weren’t consciously listening for it.

In a similar vein, the way we “see” things is influenced by our emotional and mental states. An open and kind-hearted person may interpret situations or facial expressions more positively, while a suspicious or fearful person may perceive the same scenes more darkly. This is why having “good eyes” isn’t just about physical sight; it’s about cultivating a perspective that allows us to see the world with empathy and positivity, which in turn fosters a “good heart.”

In the words of the Gemara, then, a person with a “good heart” is like one who is “constantly drinking”—in the sense that they are nourished and sustained by a positive and resilient mindset, able to face life with balance and kindness.

146

Spiritual and Material Poverty

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph raises an interesting challenge to the verse in Mishlei (15:15): “All the days of the pauper are bad.” It asks: Isn’t it true that even the poor experience good times, such as Shabbos and Yom Tov, when they have access to food and rest? Shmuel responds that even a change to richer food may upset the stomach, so the poor suffer even when they eat better meals.

The Bnei Yissachar (Ma’amar 10:4) delves into why the Gemara raises this question at all, as it’s clear that not every poor person has access to food on Shabbos. In fact, Gemara in Shabbos (118a) speaks of people so impoverished that their Shabbos resembles an ordinary weekday. The Bnei Yissachar explains that the “pauper” in this verse could also refer to someone spiritually impoverished—a person who lacks sufficient Torah knowledge and wisdom.

How does this idea connect to eating? According to the Arizal (Shaar HaMitzvos, Eikev), there is a mystical process involved in consuming food. Originally, humanity was prohibited from eating meat, as animal souls had yet to enter their cycle of reincarnation in lower forms. However, after the flood, souls that had not fully completed their earthly missions could reincarnate in animals. When a Torah sage eats with proper kavannah (intention) to serve Hashem, they can spiritually “redeem” and elevate this matter, transforming the physical into something sacred.

In light of this, only a person rich in Torah knowledge and connected to Hashem can elevate meat in this way. As the Gemara in Pesachim (49b) notes, “An am ha’aretz (ignorant person) is forbidden to eat meat.” On Shabbos and Yom Tov, however, everyone is obligated to enjoy festive meals, even an am ha’aretz. Presumably, Shabbos’s inherent sanctity allows even a simple person to eat meat as part of a mitzvah and to elevate the physical matter of food on these special days.

The Bnei Yissachar does not fully address the Gemara’s answer about a change in diet potentially causing discomfort. Yet, I believe the answer speaks to a spiritual parallel: just as a shift in diet can physically disrupt one’s system, sudden shifts in religious practice or spiritual engagement can be unsettling for someone unprepared. A person unaccustomed to regular Torah study or observance may struggle to navigate and fulfill all the mitzvos of Shabbos and Yom Tov properly. Despite their best intentions, they may misunderstand or misapply certain customs, leading to a spiritual imbalance.

This is consistent with the teaching in Avos (2:3): “A brute cannot be sin-fearing, nor can an ignorant person be pious.” One who is unrefined or unlearned may lack the sensitivity and understanding to perform mitzvos in a way that achieves true spiritual elevation. For the spiritually impoverished, this gap can turn even days of mitzvah and joy into occasions of struggle. Thus, even on holy days, they may feel the challenge of balancing the spiritual ideal with the limitations of their own spiritual state.