Saul Paves

The Imperative of the Common Good

From David Holifield by Unsplash

When leaders and organizations improve the places they enter, entire communities prosper.

One of my favorite Talmudic passages appears in Taanit 23a. It tells the story of Choni ha-Me’aggel, a saintly and remarkable figure who lived at the end of the Second Temple period. Once, as he was traveling, he saw an elderly man planting a carob tree. Curious, Choni asked him, “How many years will it take until this tree bears fruit?” The man replied, “Seventy years”. Perplexed, Choni asked again, “Are you certain you will live seventy years?”
The man answered: “I found this world with carob trees planted by my ancestors. Just as they planted for me, I am planting for my children.”

This brief exchange carries one of the most profound ethical lessons in the Talmud. Although Choni is the sage, it is the elderly man who articulates the higher vision: the duty to care for, preserve and invest in the future. He plants something whose fruit he will never taste, but from which others will benefit.

The most inspiring detail lies in the subtlety of his words: “I found this world with carob trees.” No one commanded him to plant. No edict, policy, incentive or social expectation compelled him. It was his attentive perception of the world around him that stirred a sense of gratitude and responsibility. His insight expresses a rare ethical awareness: the prosperity we inherit is the result of earlier generations, and therefore calls us to continue their work.

In our time, caring for and preserving resources is no longer an admirable virtue but an urgent necessity. What used to be considered a concern for distant generations is now a matter of immediate consequence. Climate change is no longer theoretical; it disrupts cities and leaves a trail of destruction.

Governments hold primary responsibility for establishing policies that respond to these challenges. Yet recent reports from COP30 once again revealed the gap between knowledge and action.

Still, environmental stewardship is not limited to public institutions. Companies can and should assume a central role. Yvon Chouinard, founder of Patagonia, expressed this beautifully:

Every company has a responsibility to its community, which includes the neighborhoods and cities in which we operate.

This goes beyond preservation. It sets forth an obligation to improve. Ethical awareness demands that we recognize the resources we inherit and assess our capacity to enhance the world we leave behind.

The Lesson of Jacob

Rabbinic literature offers a striking parallel. After twenty years in the house of Laban, Jacob returns to the Land of Israel and settles near the city of Shechem.

The Torah states: “And Jacob came safely to the city of Shechem… and encamped before the city” (Genesis 33:18). The Hebrew verb vaYichan typically means “encamped,” yet it shares a root with chen, grace and favor.

The Talmud (Shabbat 33a) teaches that when Jacob encamped before the city, “he established a currency, he paved the streets and he built public bathhouses.” Rashi and Ramban echo this interpretation: Jacob improved the city.

This was no symbolic gesture; it was a concrete intervention. By creating currency, he facilitated trade and economic vitality. By paving roads, he improved mobility and reduced logistical barriers. By constructing bathhouses, he elevated public health and hygiene.

To understand the richness of this verse, we must recall Jacob’s journey. He fled his parents’ home in fear of Esau. He walked alone and vulnerable through unfamiliar terrain. He arrived in a foreign land with no resources or guarantees. He labored for years under Laban’s exploitation and broken agreements. He wrestled with an angel at daybreak and carried the physical and spiritual imprint of that encounter for life. And now he approached Esau, uncertain of how their reunion would unfold.

Jacob is a man shaped by continual hardship. Each stage of his journey expanded his moral awareness. He knew fear, injustice, exhaustion and solitude, yet also divine protection and resilience. When he arrives in Shechem, he does not seek rest. He arrives with sharpened sensitivity to what it means to live without stability, without support, without structure. And he decides to act.

What is most striking is the ethical depth of this rabbinic reading. After everything Jacob endured, he could have focused solely on rebuilding his own life. Instead, he transformed personal experience into collective sensitivity. He turned pain into responsibility. Gratitude into service. Survival into commitment. He did not settle for merely encamping. He improved the place he arrived.

It is important to consider the broader Talmudic context in which this passage appears. The same section recounts the dramatic story of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, who was forced to hide in a cave with his son, Rabbi Elazar, for thirteen years. Their exile followed a heated discussion in the Beit Midrash about the benefits introduced by the Romans: paved roads, bridges and bathhouses. Rabbi Yehudah praised these developments as civic improvements. Rabbi Yossi remained silent. Rabbi Shimon sharply criticized them, arguing that such innovations served imperial interests, increased taxation and encouraged moral corruption.

After years of hardship and seclusion, Rabbi Shimon emerged from the cave transformed. Drawing from Jacob’s example, he declared: “Since I have been granted the gift of life, I must give back and contribute something to society.”

Our sages present figures who do not stand apart from the community but engage with it, uplift it and assume responsibility for its wellbeing.

The Sefat Emet captures this posture concisely:

The virtue of the righteous is to bring light to the place they enter.

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein deepens this ethical stance:

We are summoned to shape not only private virtue but also public structures of justice and decency.

These teachings express a moral ideal known in Jewish tradition as Yishuvo shel Olam, the obligation to sustain and strengthen the world. The Talmud and later commentators emphasize that actions which enhance communal life are, at their core, acts of building the world. Jacob embodies this principle by transforming his arrival into public good, his presence into shared benefit.

The Responsibility to Improve

Many companies have embraced this mindset. Some advance through philanthropy, others through organizational culture, and others through the conviction that their operations can generate meaningful social impact.

Marc Benioff, founder of Salesforce, articulated this view:

The business of business is improving the state of the world.

Salesforce became a global reference through its 1-1-1 model: dedicating 1 percent of equity, 1 percent of product and 1 percent of employee time to social initiatives. This inspired the Pledge 1% movement, now comprising more than ten thousand companies across over a hundred countries.

There are many examples of organizations that have adopted this commitment, from Cisco and Johnson & Johnson to Unilever and Starbucks. In Brazil, companies like Suzano, Votorantim and Bradesco integrated social responsibility into core strategy and became benchmarks in the field.

A further development in this discourse was proposed by Harvard researchers Michael Porter and Mark Kramer through the concept of Shared Value. They argue that:

companies must create economic value in a way that also creates value for society.

Their insight reframes the role of business. The goal is not merely to return value to society or mitigate harm but to build environments in which profit and social progress advance together. This framework encourages transformations that are deeper and more durable, reshaping the relationship between companies and the communities around them.

The Legacy of Jacob

Choni teaches us to plant for future generations. Jacob teaches us to build for the present community. Leaders and organizations today have the opportunity to do both: to improve the present and prepare the future.

Vaichan et Pnei HaIr is not simply a historical phrase. It is an ethical summons. It invites every individual, organization and leader to use their resources, talents and positions to strengthen the world around them.

The final question is not technical but moral.

What will be better because we were here?

About the Author
Rabbi Saul (Shmuel) Paves, PhD, is a Modern Orthodox rabbi, educator, and scholar born in São Paulo, Brazil. He studied at Yeshivat Har Etzion under Rabbi Yehuda Amital and Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein and received rabbinic ordination from the Israel Chief Rabbinate. He holds a BSc in Building Engineering and a PhD in Jewish Studies from the University of São Paulo, where he researched poverty in Israeli ultra-Orthodox communities. For over two decades, he served as a community rabbi, school headmaster, and philanthropy advisor. Rabbi Paves recently made Aliyah with his wife and children. He is currently engaged in impact investment and strategic initiatives to strengthen Israel's economy.
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