As I sit down to write this on Thursday night, shortly after the Parnasa session at the Agudah convention concluded, I find myself grappling with a deep and nuanced question raised by Naftali Horowitz’s heartfelt plea. For those who missed it, he passionately implored us to be mindful of those with less means than ourselves. His message was clear and well-meaning: our actions and spending habits should take into account the potential hurt they may cause to others who struggle financially. While his sentiment is admirable, I believe there is a critical point that deserves more attention—one that wasn’t fully explored. Why is the burden to “tone down” placed almost exclusively on those who have been blessed with material success? Why is the responsibility not shared more evenly, with everyone encouraged to approach their financial reality with perspective and self-awareness? To be clear, I am not, chas v’shalom, questioning the wisdom of the rabbonim or the sources Naftali quoted. But I do want to ask: why is the onus seemingly placed on the “haves” to hide their blessings rather than on everyone to recognize that there will always be disparities in financial means? Shouldn’t we teach that life inherently comes with differences—that some will have more, and others less? The impression I took from the session was one that felt uncomfortably close to advocating for a type of communal “equality” that doesn’t seem to align with the Torah’s view of individual blessings. Are we moving toward a mindset where the goal is for everyone to appear the same, lest someone feel slighted? If so, I fear we are stepping into a philosophy that is more aligned with socialism or communism than the nuanced balance that Yiddishkeit promotes. Let’s apply this line of thinking to a common scenario. Suppose I were to say, “I think it’s improper for a donor’s name to be displayed on a building because it makes me feel bad that I can’t afford to do the same.” Most people would dismiss that as irrational. Why, then, is it acceptable to tell someone they shouldn’t go on a vacation they can afford or throw a simcha that reflects their means? This isn’t to say that the “haves” bear no responsibility. On the contrary, I believe there is room for introspection and adjustment on both sides. The “haves” should consider scaling back excessive displays of wealth—toning down what has become the “standard” Kiddush, vort, or wedding, for example. At the same time, the “have-nots” need to work on embracing their own financial reality without shame. It’s okay to host a simcha within your means, even if it looks different from someone else’s. There is no reason to feel less worthy because of it. The reality is that this issue runs deeper than money. In another session at the convention, there was a discussion about dealing with struggling children. Perhaps these two conversations should have been combined, because the pressures we are creating—both for ourselves and our children—are deeply intertwined. By telling children that they “deserve” to have whatever others have, we are inadvertently teaching them that their worth is tied to material equality. This mindset can be damaging, planting seeds of entitlement and dissatisfaction that grow over time. This isn’t just a problem for “this generation,” nor is it […]