And it came to pass as they emptied their sacks, that behold, every man’s bundle of money was in his sack: and when they and their father saw the bundles of money, they were afraid. (Bereishis 42:35)

The Chasam Sofer (Moses Schreiber 1762–1839) discusses an important idea in one of his teshuvos (Chelek 6:59). He emphasizes that people must not put themselves in a position that invites complaints – neither from Hashem nor from other people. He writes that as challenging as it is not to have Hashem have anything against you, it is far more difficult to ensure that no people harbor grievances against you. People’s perceptions are shaped by diverse thoughts and ideas, often differing greatly from reality. Therefore, he advises that even in cases when an action is permitted according to halacha, if it might get others upset or annoyed, one should refrain – unless it involves a mitzvah, in which case one should consult with their Rav for guidance.

Turning to the parsha, the Brisker Rav (Yitzchok Zev Halevi Soloveitchik 1886-1959) asks a penetrating question: Why did Yosef not only put the grain they ordered into his brothers’ sacks, but also secretly return their payment money? He offers a fascinating explanation: enduring hunger is easier than living under the weight of debt. By secretly returning their money, Yosef ensured the brothers would be compelled to come back to Egypt — the pressure of repayment driving them more forcefully than hunger ever could.

There is a general principle in halacha that discusses when one must return money. For instance: You ordered something on Amazon, and it failed to come on time, so you registered a claim, and they refunded your money. Later, the item showed up. Halacha requires examining not only the strict legal obligation whether to repay the money, but also how it appears to others, and what they will think.

The Chasam Sofer teaches that one must remain clean in the eyes of others. Yosef understood that his brothers would feel compelled to return the money even if halacha would not strictly demand it, in order to avoid any shadow of suspicion. Thus, he was guaranteeing their return to Egypt.

This is a practical rule to apply in our lives—especially during Chanukah, when we reflect on how the world perceives us. At such times, we must redouble our efforts to ensure our conduct remains impeccable in the eyes of all humanity. Rav Moshe Feinstein (1895-1986) was once asked, “Why is it that young children typically start learning gemora with Perek Elu Metzios rather than the more immediately relevant Masechta Brochos?” On the spot he gave ten reasons, of which I heard three, including this one: The natural tendency of people is towards “finders keepers, losers weepers”, yet the Torah teaches us that we are obligated to return lost items, even if the original owner would never know that we found it. This is because even from an early age, we must learn to live beyond reproach in all situations.

On Chanukah, we commemorate our war with the Greeks, who sought to eradicate our core principles. In times of peace, however, we must treat all people – even non-Jews – honestly and fairly.