What's the worst thing that could happen to you? Most of us probably wouldn't pick poverty. We might think of illness, or losing a loved one. But in the ancient world, and perhaps even now, the loss of everything you own could feel like the ultimate devastation.
Job, that iconic figure of suffering and faith, apparently felt that way. According to Legends of the Jews, when asked what he considered the severest affliction, he answered, "My enemies' joy in my misfortune." But when God pressed him – after Satan’s accusations, mind you – to choose between poverty and physical suffering, he chose the pain. "O Lord of the whole world, chastise my body with suffering of all kinds, only preserve me from poverty." Poverty, for Job, was the greater scourge.
Why? Because before his trials, Job wasn't just wealthy; he occupied a “brilliant position” because of it. He saw his wealth as a divine gift, a foretaste, perhaps, of the Messianic age. Think about it: his harvests were unbelievably bountiful, practically instantaneous. As Ginzberg retells it, the harvest followed so close on the heels of planting that "no sooner were the seeds strewn in the furrows, than they sprouted and grew and ripened produce." His livestock thrived, even protected by divine intervention. We're talking one hundred and thirty thousand sheep guarded by eight hundred dogs, plus another two hundred just for the house! Then there were the three hundred and forty thousand asses and thirty-five hundred pairs of oxen!
But here's the thing: Job didn’t hoard his riches. This wasn't about self-indulgence. It was about tzedakah (צדקה), righteousness and justice, and specifically, giving to the poor and needy. He clothed them, fed them, and provided for their every need.
Job even employed ships to carry supplies to the destitute in far-off cities, says Legends of the Jews. His house was designed for accessibility, with doors on all four sides, open to any traveler. At any given moment, thirty tables groaned under the weight of food, and another twelve were reserved just for widows, ensuring everyone found what they needed.
He didn't just throw money at the problem. Job was deeply considerate. He employed servants specifically to wait on the poor. So moved were his guests by his generosity that they often volunteered to help, but Job insisted on paying them for their service.
And get this: If someone needed a business loan and promised to give a portion of their profits to the poor, Job wouldn’t demand collateral – just a signature. And if, through misfortune, the borrower couldn't repay, Job would return the note, or even tear it up in front of them! Can you imagine?
But Job’s generosity wasn't just about material needs. He aimed to uplift people spiritually as well. After meals, he’d have musicians play, inviting everyone to join in songs of praise to God. He even played the cithern (a stringed instrument), while the musicians rested!
Job had a special place in his heart for widows and orphans. He visited the sick, rich and poor alike, bringing a physician when needed. And if the situation was hopeless, he comforted the family with words of hope and encouragement. According to the Legends, he would tell the grieving wife: "Trust always in the grace and lovingkindness of God. He hath not abandoned thee until now, and He will not forsake thee henceforth. Thy husband will be restored to health, and will be able to provide for his family as heretofore." And then, anticipating the worst, he'd pledge to care for her and her children. He would even draw up a legal document, witnessed and signed, binding himself to this commitment.
And while Job was mostly known for his kindness, he wasn't afraid to be firm when necessary. If someone was trying to cheat a poor person, Job would bring out his "army" – a show of force to ensure justice prevailed.
He even tried to instill these values in his children, teaching them to serve the poor. After every feast, he would offer sacrifices to God, sharing the offerings with the needy. "Take and help yourselves," he'd say, "and pray for my children. It may be that they have sinned, and renounced God, saying in the presumption of their hearts: 'We are the children of this rich man. All these things are our possessions. Why should we be servants to the poor?'"
Job understood that true wealth wasn’t just about possessions. It was about responsibility, about using your blessings to uplift others, to create a more just and compassionate world. It's a powerful reminder that our actions, our generosity, and our commitment to Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">tikkun olam (תיקון עולם) – repairing the world – are what truly matter. And perhaps that's why, in the face of unimaginable suffering, Job ultimately remained Job.