But while money is always money (the same 20 dollars can used to buy food, movies, or in my case, a new book), time is a little more nuanced.
In fact, the Greeks had two different words for time: chronos and kairos. Chronos was the quantitative sense of time. It could be measured and dissected, and most importantly, was undifferentiated.
Kairos, in contrast, was the qualitative sense of time. It was psychological, how we felt time, and it reminded us that not every moment was exactly the same — some moments were more powerful, more important and more holy than others.
To phrase it another way, if chronos is the date of your wedding, kairos is your wedding day.
So time is paradoxical. Sometimes we look at it through our daily or weekly schedules, placing all our obligations and opportunities into our calendar. When we look at time in this way, it is something we use, and has value only to the extent that it can help us achieve other goals. But sometimes we look at time through the lens of what is most special and important in our lives. When we look at it in this way, it is something we experience, and has value in and of itself.
Our view of money, however, doesn’t have this challenge. Money doesn’t have value in and of itself — its power comes in what it allows us to do. The question then is, are we using our money to help us do what we truly want to be doing?
In the new book Happy Money: The Science of Smarter Spending, Elizabeth Dunn and Michael Norton outline the different ways we can use money to increase our well-being. While money doesn’t buy happiness (at least not directly), if we use our money correctly, we can find opportunities for more joy and satisfaction in life. And one of the primary ways we can do that is to use money to buy time — but it has to be a specific type of time.
We all are busy with our lives, and we often think that buying a new time-saving gadget will make our lives better because it will “save us time.” Instead, these new gadgets often force us to do more work in the same amount of time. But that’s because when we are looking to “be more efficient,” we are looking for more chronos time.
What Dunn and Norton argue is that we should use our money to find ways to experience kairos time. So, for example, how can we make sure that we have a date night with our spouse? How can we strive to volunteer with organizations that give our lives meaning? As Dunn and Norton explain:
Transforming decisions about money into decisions about time has a surprising benefit. Thinking about time — rather than money — spurs people to engage in activities that promote well-being, like socializing and volunteering. In a 2010 study, more than three hundred adults completed a simple task designed to activate the concept of either time or money. One group unscrambled sentences related to time, such as “sheets the change clock” (possible answers: “change the sheets” or “change the clock”). Another group unscrambled sentences related to money (“sheets the change price”). Afterwards, everyone decided how to spend the next twenty-four hours. Individuals who unscrambled sentences related to time were more inclined to socialize and engage in “intimate relations” and were less inclined to work. Those who unscrambled sentences related to money showed just the opposite pattern, reporting enhanced intentions to work and diminished intentions to socialize or have intimate relations.
Why? Time and money promote different mind-sets. We view our choices about how to spend time as being deeply connected to our sense of self. In contrast, choices about money often lead us to think in a relatively cold, rational manner. Focusing on time frees people to prioritize happiness and social relationships. Even a simple sentence-unscrambling task is enough to induce these different frames of mind. (Dunn and Norton, 74-75)
In Judaism, the paradigmatic kairos time is Shabbat. During the six days of the work week, we are supposed to be productive, to be working hard in order to support ourselves and our family. But on Shabbat, we are told to take a break. To rest. To be with friends. To be with family. To go for a nice, long walk. To read and to learn. To pray. To be reminded that time can be special.
Indeed, while every dollar we earn is the same, not every moment in life is the same. And while we can always potentially gain more money, we never gain more time. While you can always potentially get a refund on your money, once your time is spent, it’s gone.
So let’s make sure we’re spending it wisely.
This question is part of the larger issue of immigration reform that will have to be faced by the Congress once we get past the fiscal cliff concerns. But for Orthodox Jews in Chicago the question of having a green card brings to mind something altogether different.
Like any Orthodox community in a large metropolitan area, there are frequent rings of the bell or visitors who show up to a weekday or Sunday morning minyan. In my experience they are only male, from the Charedi or Hasidic community and most often reside in Israel. They are referred to as meshulachim, some who were sent by a particular yeshiva or institution while others are collecting for themselves, a sick relative, or preparing for a wedding of a child (and the household needs of the new couple). In Chicago, they first stop at the local Agudat Israel office that gives them a “green card” which states they are who they claim to be. Donations are made out to Agudat Israel and can be claimed as charitable donations. There are reminders to make the checks out carefully as a small number of meshulachim have been known to add an extra zero to the sum. However, it is important to remember that there are and were many honorable meshulachim in Jewish history who did important work for yeshivot and other institutions.
The question arises as should you give them money? The minyan I attend gives them ten dollars and they are not allowed to ask anyone in attendance for money. Some people at their homes refuse them outright or give them five dollars. I am troubled by the money they spent on a plane ticket to get to North America and various cities and the cash paid to their drivers who chauffeur them. I also am not a supporter of the Charedi community. Indeed last Israel Independence Day a group showed up at my minyan and deliberately sat down for Hallel which caused quite a scene of consternation. From the point of view of Jewish legal tradition, the needs of one’s own community should take precedence. But they are also fellow Jews and perhaps a buck or two with a smile will not hurt, but many of us wonder if we are simply being used.
I am fortunate that I live a couple of miles away from the center of the orthodox community and so my door bell rarely rings. But every October, a few days after Sukkot, I get a visit from a fellow from Israel. He is collecting for his institution. I actually treasure the visit. He knows my name and my wife’s and addresses both of us. He shares wonderful divrei Torah, short Torah teachings. We talk about our families. We share a small shot of scotch for a l’chaim. He is so endearing and personable that I always give him a decent contribution. My next trip to Israel I will visit his organization and see what it actually is. Maybe I will bring a green card from Chicago and collect for my favorite charitable institutions from home.
…And to be clear, in the following analogy, Chase is the prostitute.
At a time when two-income families struggle to make ends-meet, 50% of Spanish young adults are unemployed, much of Europe is bucking austerity measures, and a generation closer to home questions the the financial value of higher education, I think it a timely service to provide a solution to very public multi-billion dollar losses: Very long tzitzit for Wall Street bankers (be they Jewish, non-Jewish, male or female).
Sure Chase can take the hit, but we’re talking about earning back the hearts and minds of the the 99% to boost back consumer confidence, so trust in big banks still matters. As a quick reminder, Tzitzit are the knotted dangling threads tied to each of the four corners of a garment (either on a prayer shawl, tallit, or often on the undergarment). The tzitzit are meant to remind a Jew of the 613 commandments enumerated in the Torah. A talmudic analogy is in order; this might take a moment, and to be clear, in the following analogy, Chase is the prostitute:
There was once a man who was meticulous in the observance of the mitzvah (commandment) of tzitzit. He heard that there was a prostitute in a faraway city who charged four hundred gold talents for her services. He sent her the exorbitant fee and set an appointed time to meet her. When he arrived at the appointed time … she prepared for him seven beds, one atop the other — six of silver and the highest one was made of gold. Six silver ladders led to the six silver beds, and a golden ladder led to the uppermost one. The prostitute unclothed herself and sat on the uppermost bed, and he, too, joined her. As he was disrobing, the four fringes of his tzitzit slapped him in his face. He immediately slid off the bed onto the floor, where he was quickly joined by the woman.
“I swear by the Roman Caesar,” the harlot exclaimed, “I will not leave you until you reveal to me what flaw you have found in me!”
“I swear,” the man replied, “that I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you. However, there is one mitzvah which we were commanded by our G‑d, and tzitzit is its name… Now the four tzitzit appeared to me as four witnesses, testifying to this truth.”
“I still will not leave you,” the prostitute said, “until you provide me with your name, the names of your city, rabbi and the school in which you study Torah.” He wrote down all the information and handed it to her.
The woman sold all of her possessions. A third of the money she gave to the government, a third she handed out to the poor, and the remaining third she took with her — along with the silver and gold beds — and she proceeded to the school which the man had named, the study hall of Rabbi Chiya.
“Rabbi,” she said to Rabbi Chiya, “I would like to convert.”
“Perhaps,” Rabbi Chiya responded, “You desire to convert because you have taken a liking to a student here?” The woman pulled out the piece of paper with the information and related to the rabbi the miracle which transpired with the tzitzit. “You may go and claim that which is rightfully yours,” the rabbi proclaimed.
She ended up marrying the man. Those very beds which she originally prepared for him illicitly, she now prepared for him lawfully. – Talmud Menachot 44a
Could We Imagine JP Morgan Chaste?
Some will argue that as long as Chase doesn’t need government money to cover its loss than it shouldn’t matter – investors understand the risks. But if that is so, than Chase shouldn’t have needed the practically free $55 billion loan from the Treasury to buy-out Bear Sterns or the $25 billion TARP money. If only Jamie Dimon, the CEO of JP Morgan Chase, and his Wall Street compatriots took the MBA Oath. Back in his time at Harvard’s Business School there was no need to make statements such as: “I will report the performance and risks of my enterprise accurately and honestly.” Instead it seems that many on Wall Street went to the same university as a past congregant of mine. Behind his desk the old high school dropout, who became a very successful hardware manufacturer proudly posted his diploma from Screw U.
If corporations such as Chase insist on being treated (when it suits them) as individuals (such as during campaign season), than when they break the trust of the public, they should do Teshuva (repent). The initial step in true repentance is refraining from the previous errors (this should be followed by contrition, confession before God, and a responsibility for future action). What already seems clear is that the stench from Chase’s recent $2-5 billion dollar loss is that it smells a lot like the security swaps that finally collapse the teetering world economy just a few years ago. Wall Street has learned nothing.
A Talmudic Solution to Chase’s Embarrassing, Cringeworthy, and Irresponsible $2 to 5 Billion Dollar Loss.
It would be nice to feel trust that Chase, and other banks, were not just waiting us out so that they could go back to their goal of world domination. I for one would feel reassured if all the Wall Street bankers would wear really long tzitzit to remind themselves not to screw us again. If that seems distasteful, perhaps too religious, let them take the route of the righteous prostitute in the story above. Let Chase take their total wealth (approx. $380 billion in total cash or cash equivalence) and distribute it as she did: One third to the government (for creating and then taking advantage of loopholes), one third to the poor (because ultimately, the profits made were on the backs of the 99%), and only then should they be allowed to keep the remaining third.