We normally think of Hassidic rabbis as men who love Jewish tradition. We think of joyous Hassidic Jews dancing around just like Tevya, to the nostalgic tune of “Tradition!” But even the love of tradition must still operate by the highest dictates of ethics that is spelled out in Judaism. Exploiting widows in particular, is one of the most heinous offenses of our Torah. If Judaism had a “mortal sin” like the Catholics, this sin in particular would prove damning.
Voltaire, once said that, “When it comes to money, “All men are of one faith.” Protestant theologian Paul Tillich defines religion as “man’s ultimate concern,” but the question we must ask, “What is our Ultimate Concern”? The answer will vary from person to person. For some, it may be power, but for many people it is the blind pursuit of money. The “ground of our being,” according to Tillich, must be more than just something transient. This point becomes vividly clear in the following story.
This past week, Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Mary Ann Murphy said she found insufficient evidence that Roland Arnall made a verbal pledge to Rabbi Boruch Shlomo Cunin of $18 million for the construction of a Chabad educational center before he died in March 2008. According to the news, Chabad’s case was severely hurt by “discrepancies and lack of corroboration,” judge says. Cunin maintained the pledge later became the obligation of Arnall’s widow, Dawn Arnall.
Why did the widow fight this case with so much ardor? Perhaps because she felt that rabbi acted like a predator, waiting to get his hands on this large sum of money. Like an epiphany, she realized that the friendship she and her husband had with Rabbi Cunin was all based upon a lie. Had the rabbi approached Mr. Arnall while he was healthier and discussed the matter with both he and his wife, the philanthropist might have given him a smaller but still generous sum of money—but not this way.
Rabbi Cunin forgot one of the most important rules regarding pastoral ethics: when a person is grieving, the last thing you should do is badger them for donations. The use of legal intimidation is an emotionally carnivorous way of treating a person who is still traumatized by the loss of a loved one. The Torah repeatedly stresses that the widow, along with the fatherless and sojourners were among the most disadvantaged members of ancient Israelite society. Because of their vulnerability, Moses repeatedly delineates numerous laws that aim to protect this vulnerable person from being exploited by greedy family members or other individuals who seek to take advantage of her plight (cf. Lev. 22:13; Deut. 14:28–29; 16:10–11, 14; 24:17–22). People sometimes forget that God is always triangulated in every interpersonal relationship; the “Eternal Thou” is silently present whether we realize it or not.
Despite society’s poor treatment of the widow, God announces that he would hold those individuals personally responsible for oppressing her; widows were among those who enjoyed God’s special care and favor (Exod. 22: 20–23; Deut. 10:18; 24:16; Prov. 15:25; Ps. 68:6; 146:9; and Mal.3:5). Showing the compassion to the widow reflects true religion at its finest, while the exploitation of the widow reflects the worst kind of atheism (Job 31:16).
When Rabbi Cunin saw the grieving face of Dawn Arnall, he of all people should have realized that he had a moral and religious responsibility to act compassionately toward her. Had the rabbi asked her in a polite way months later to make a donation in memory of her husband, I seriously doubt she would have refused him. Mourners typically make a special pledge toward a special fund or project to perpetuate the memory of a loved one. Why should this case have been any different?
Some precepts don’t need to be explicitly commanded because of common sense and decency. Even without hearing a divine commandment, “Thou shall not kill,” certain truths ought to be embedded within the human soul. The rabbis observed that murder in particular is not just carried out with physical violence; it can be carried out in more subtle forms, e.g., speaking ill of others, depriving somebody of a livelihood, or exploiting the weak and defenseless.
Jewish tradition stresses that we honor God by showing a reverence for life. Whenever we see a human face suffering, we ought to perceive the Word of God telling us, “respond with kindness; give those who suffer, the gift of presence. Say, “Here I am . . . How can I help?”
I suspect that as more people become aware of this desecration of Jewish ethical values, Rabbi Cunin may discover that few people are going to feel like supporting him and his organization—if it means exploiting the most vulnerable members of our society. The pursuit of virtue must remain the cardinal value of our faith. Anything else would make our faith in God a caricature, an idolatrous image worthy of discarding.
Rabbi Cunin might want to examine the wisdom of his own sect’s founding father-Rabbi Sheneir Zalman of Liadi—the first Chabad rabbi—who explains in many of his mystical essays that God becomes a “Nothing” and non-being whenever people consciously or unconsciously exclude the Divine Presence out of their lives.
As I have mentioned on other occasions, the true atheist is not necessarily the person who denies God’s existence; “religious” people can be just as cynical about God, morality, and faith when they behave as though religious principles do not matter-especially when it comes to the pursuit of money or power. When this phenomena occurs, ruthlessness and faith co-exist in an unholy matrimony.
A compassionate and generous atheist shows greater faith by his actions than the true believer who scoffs at his faith’s command to live an ethical life. In the final analysis, God demands pious deeds-not pious creeds, or other high-sounding spiritual platitudes that are morally disconnected from reality.
We wish Dawn Arnall our deepest condolences and pray that she will find worthier organizations-Jewish or non-Jewish-to support in memory of her husband.
