The Roman governor Turnus Rufus and Rabbi Akiva argued often. Once they argued about tzedakah.
“Akiva,” said Turnus Rufus, “if your God decreed that a certain man should be poor, why should the rich contravene His decree by feeding him? You claim to serve God by disobeying His verdict.”
It was a trap disguised as a philosophy question. If Akiva said the rich should not give, he abandoned the poor. If he said they must, he seemed to admit the rich were overruling God.
Akiva answered with a parable. “Imagine a king who is angry with his son and places him in a dungeon, ordering that he be given neither food nor drink. Then a man comes along and feeds the son anyway. When the king finds out, will he be angry at the man — or grateful to him?”
Turnus Rufus sensed where this was going and said nothing.
Akiva continued. “Human beings are not strangers to one another. They are all God’s children. Even when the Father is displeased with a child and withholds bread, He is pleased when another person steps in and feeds him. The very same God who made some poor also wrote in His Torah, ‘He gives food to all flesh’ (Psalms 136:25), and ‘Open your hand wide to your poor brother’ (Deuteronomy 15:11). When a human being steps in to help, God rewards him. The rich were not put here to ignore the poor. They were put here to be God’s hands.”
Turnus Rufus went home without a reply. Poverty, Akiva had shown him, is not God’s cold sentence. It is God’s invitation to the rest of us.