Jewish tradition has a powerful answer to that feeling, and it all revolves around how we treat the poor and vulnerable among us.

In Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic homilies on the Book of Exodus, we find a fascinating interpretation of the verse, "If you lend money to My people, to the poor who is with you" (Exodus 22:24). The Rabbis cleverly play on the Hebrew word for "My people" (ami), suggesting it can also be read as "with Me" (imi). The implication? The poor aren't just with you; they are with God. It completely flips the script.

The text goes on to contrast God's attitude toward the poor with that of human beings. How often do we, as the Midrash observes, turn away from those less fortunate, even family members, because their poverty makes us uncomfortable? As Solomon laments in Proverbs, "All the brethren of the poor hate him" (Proverbs 19:7), and "The poor is hated even by his friend" (Proverbs 14:20). Ouch. It’s a harsh truth, isn't it?

But the Holy One, blessed be He, isn't like that. Isaiah (66:1-2) says, "The heavens are My throne…But to this I will look, to the poor…" God's gaze is drawn to the marginalized, the overlooked. And when God finally reconciles with Zion, as Isaiah 14:32 promises, who will be sheltered first? "The poor of His people." God has mercy on the poor (Isaiah 49:13).

This brings us to the warning against charging interest (neshekh) on loans to the poor. The Rabbis don't pull any punches here. They compare it to a serpent's bite, poisoning the relationship and ultimately uprooting the person's livelihood. To take advantage of someone's vulnerability is a form of violence.

The text says not to "bite" (tinshokh) the poor man like the serpent bit Adam, uprooting him and his descendants. In other words, don't exploit their desperation for your own gain. Don't be like a cunning serpent, always seeking an opportunity to do evil.

Leviticus 25:36 says, "Do not take from him usury or interest; you shall fear your God." The Midrash emphasizes that taking interest is tantamount to denying God's presence, as if you aren't scared of divine punishment. Taking interest from an Israelite is like committing all the evil and transgressions in the world, as Ezekiel 18:13 warns. Pretty strong language. The analogy used is chilling. It's like a murderer brought before a governor. "Is he still alive?" the governor exclaims upon reading the indictment. Shouldn't such a criminal already be dead? Likewise, one who takes interest is considered so morally bankrupt that the question is asked: "Shall he live?" The answer, according to Ezekiel, is a resounding no. "He shall not live. All these abominations he performed, he shall be put to death, his blood shall be upon him" (Ezekiel 18:13).

But there's a flip side, a path to redemption. According to Psalm 15:5, lending without interest is considered as though you performed all the mitzvot, all the good deeds.

So, what does all this mean for us today? It's a call to action, a reminder that our treatment of the poor is a direct reflection of our relationship with God. It challenges us to see the divine spark in every human being, especially those who are struggling. It compels us to act with compassion, generosity, and a profound sense of responsibility for the well-being of our community.

Perhaps, the next time we encounter someone in need, we can remember that we're not just helping an individual; we're connecting with the Divine. And in doing so, we elevate not only their lives but also our own.