Community Conversation - Healing our World: Tzedakah, Zakat, and Charity: What’s next?

Remarks by Rabbi Judy Schindler

The Shulchan Aruch, a 16th century code of Jewish law taught:

How much should one give to the poor?

Whatever it is that person might need.

If he is hungry, he should be fed.

If he needs clothes, he should be provided with clothes.

If he has not household furniture or utensils, furniture and utensils should be provided,

If he needs to be spoon fed, then we must spoon feed him.

In Judaism, the word tzedakah reflects this obligation to give to those in need. The word might erroneously be translated as charity, but it is not. For charity, implies that your hearts motivates you to go beyond the call of duty. In Hebrew, the word is righteousness from the root tzedek or justice. Giving to those in need is not viewed as a generous, magnanimous act, it is a just act, the right thing to do. Tzedakah commands the giving of money, while the different category of mitzvoth commandments, are gemilut chasadim, acts of loving kindness that mandate the giving of time, effort, energy and talent.

The concept of tzedakah finds its source throughout the Hebrew Bible. In Deuteronomy 15.11 we are told that "The poor will never cease to be in the land; therefore I command you, you shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in the land."

In Leviticus we are told not to harvest the corners of the field, or to pick the last fruit from the tree, so that the poor should have a right to "glean" the remaining produce. (e.g.: Leviticus 23;22)

The Torah commands giving 10 percent. (The legal source is Deut. 14:22, and the Bible is filled with examples: Abraham gave Malki- Tzedek one-tenth of all his possessions (Genesis 14:20); Jacob vowed to give one-tenth of all his future acquisitions to God (Genesis 29:22); there are mandated tithes to support the Levites (Numbers 18:21, 24) and the poor (Deut. 26:12). The codes of Jewish law guide us to give one tenth of what we earn to the poor. As the Shulchan Aruch states: A person should give up to 1/5 (20%) of his possessions. That is praiseworthy. One-tenth (10%) is average.

While in Biblical times, the Israelites gave ten percent each year to the Levites who ran the Temple and an addition ten percent every third year to the poor, today we are required to give ten percent to any charity of our choice.

Give away a tenth, the Talmud tractate Shabbat teaches, so that you may become wealthy and Maimonides added "No one ever becomes poor from doing tzedakah."

In the eyes of our tradition giving tzedakah not only makes us rich, but more importantly, giving tzedakah saves us from death. For Rabbi Yehuda used to say, ten strong things were created in the world – a mountain is strong, but iron cuts through it. Iron is strong, but fire can make it bubble. Fire is strong, but water puts it out. Water is strong, but clouds contain it. Clouds are strong, but the wind can scatter them. Breath is strong, but the body holds it in. The body is strong, but fear breaks it. Fear is strong, but wine dissipates its effect. Wine is strong, but sleep overcomes its power. Death is stronger than all of them. But tzedakah saves from death.

Giving saves us from the spiritual death of becoming numb, indifferent, apathetic to the pain around us.

And it is not enough just to give, there is a proper way to give. One must always maintain the honor of the needy soul receiving the tzedakah, and never do anything to cause her or him shame (hence the leaving of the gleanings and leaving the corners of the field not harvested).

Moses Maimonides, the twelfth century physician and scholar offers us guidance in responding to poverty through his ladder of justice. He taught that there are eight levels of giving charity – each one higher than the previous.

The lowest rung of the ladder is the person who gives unwillingly – who gives only because he is asked or coerced to. We move up the ladder as we give cheerfully, as we give as voluntarily, as we give as generously as we can and as is needed, as we give in way that maintains the dignity of the recipient, and as we give anonymously. Yet in order to reach the highest level of Maimonides’ golden ladder of charity, we must give a recipient the skills they need to provide for themselves.

In my preparation for this talk, I actually learned of a level of tzedakah that goes even beyond: being sensitive to someone before he’s in trouble. As the sages explain: It takes one person to support something before it falls, but after it falls, even five people may not be able to lift it. (see Rashi, Leviticus 25:35)

In Judaism, we are meant to give tzedakah to poor people according to their needs if the giver is able. (Mishneh Torah, Hilhot Matanot La’ani’im 7:1)

In the Talmud, a rabbi once sent his son to bring tzedakah to an impoverished man. The son returned with the money in hand, explaining that when he visited the poor man, he was drinking wine. "Well then," said the rabbi, "Next time, I should double my donation. How sad, obviously this man was once used to fine things."

The Jewish tradition makes a concerted effort not to judge the recipient but to give what you are able. I met a Charlotte student who was once in need and articulated the concept so eloquently, he said, "Charity is great thing, unless you’re the one receiving it." No one wants to be a needy recipient.

Those who are impoverished have responsibilities, as well. They, too, are required to give.

There's a story told by a women who was bringing her leftovers from a Thanksgiving celebration out to the homeless one night. When she stopped at her destination -- a corner where each night slept the same homeless and elderly woman, she rolled own her car window and called out to the senior who was clutching a blanket and surrounded with paper bags holding all of her worldly possessions.

The privileged woman called out, "I have some food, are you hungry..." And the impoverished and elderly woman responded, "Oh, thank you very much, but I'm quite full now. Why don't you take it to someone who really needs it?"

The Talmud tractate Gittin teaches, "Even a poor person who receives tzedakah must give tzedakah."

On the issue of entitlement, our tradition teaches to give first and then to ask questions – for someone’s life may be on the line. As a general rule, the majority of Jews support government programs that help those who have fallen to the bottom of our socioeconomic ladder. According to Rabbi Vorspan and Rabbi Saperstein, both of whom were close friends of my father, this is for several reasons:

By early Talmudic times, the second century, the Jewish community had four communal funds, a daily food distribution program, a clothing fund, a burial fund, and a communal money fund. Since the Jewish community needed to provide for its own, these can be compared to government institutions.

As a community of Beth El, we do a great deal to help the needy, yet still, it is hardly enough. I preach about it, we collect food year round and we have a significant Yom Kippur food drive, we collect money for needy causes, we have adopted Sterling Elementary an in-need school in our community, we host Room in the Inn many times each year, we serve Friendship Trays every weekday of the year, we raise funds for Mazon (a Jewish response to hunger), for Crisis Assistance, we participate in Mitzvah Day, people contribute to and I disburse my Discretionary Funds continually.

According to our faith, how we treat those who impoverished will determine whether or not the messiah will arrive. Judaism teaches that Elijah will be the one to declare that the Messiah has come. A legend teaches that, "Before Elijah died, he declared that he would return once in each generation in the guise of any poor or oppressed person, coming to people’s doors to see how he would be treated. By the treatment offered to this poor person, who would be Elijah himself, he would know whether the population had reached a level of humanity making them capable of participating in the dawn of the Messianic age." (From A Radical Haggadah by Marcia Prager)

May all of us work together to bring about that Messianic time.

OTHER ISSUES:

PRIORITIZING – LOCAL, NATIONAL, GLOBAL

Rabbi Salanter sought to change the world… we need to work on all levels, but first we need to focus our efforts at home.

From a Sermon "Social Justice is Jewish" Rosh Hashanah Morning 2003 by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner.

According to Luria’s theological construct, when God — the Ein Sof — decided to create the world, God contracted in order to make space for the universe. The act of contraction involves a kind of primal exile, a removal of God from space, into the recesses of God’s own being.

As God contracted, Divine light was gathered into ten Sephirot, or vessels. As the light began to fill the vessels, their capacity failed them, and the light shattered the vessels. Sparks of Divine light were trapped in the fragments of these vessels, which scattered throughout the cosmos.

As a result, the Divine Presence, Shechinah, is itself in exile, and therefore the universe remains flawed. But when all the sparks of the broken vessels are redeemed, the exile of the light will come to an end, and human and cosmic redemption will occur. The Torah and commandments are the means given by God whereby we can repair the cosmos. With this imagery, Luria offered the Jewish people a mechanism by which they could proactively rise above the injustice of the world and bring the Messiah.

Tikkun olam has always been a Jewish response to injustice in the world. In 16th century Spain, it was Luria’s response to the pain of exile. In the 3rd century, tikkun ha-olam was a Jewish response to economic injustice imposed by Rome. The term tikkun ha-olam is first found in the Mishnah, where it describes rabbinic enactments designed to preserve the social order of the Jewish world in the face of Roman oppression. (Mishnah Gittin, chap. 4&5)

YOM KIPPUR PROPHETIC READING – Isaiah 58 "Is this fast I desire? A day of self-affliction? Bowing your head like a reed? Is this what you call a fast, a day acceptable to God? Is not this the fast I look for: to unlock the shackles of injustice, to undo the fetters of bondage, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every cruel chain? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and to bring the homeless poor into your house? When you see the naked, to clothe them, and never to hide yourself from your own kin."

What would a modern prophet say?

As I understand it, the job of the ancient prophet is much like the job of a modern preacher – their job was to comfort the disturbed and to disturb the comfortable. Al Vorspan, a great family friend, and a outstanding writer and activist, writes a piece about a prophet coming to a rich suburb, much like Myers Park or the Jewish neighborhoods surrounding Shalom Park… He names this modern displaced prophet Deutero, after Deutero Isaiah, whom critical scholars assume authored chapters 40-55 of the Book of Isaiah.

Deutero is taking a walk in an affluent neighborhood when the police suddenly stop him to find out why he, a stranger, is there.

"Is it a crime to walk around this neighborhood? Is this prison?" Deutero asks his guide. "Where are all the people in these homes?" And then he shares his prophecy of rebuke.

"They are enjoined to welcome the stranger and to love their neighbors as themselves. But they do not even know their neighbors. They live in boxes classified by class and color and status. They know who does not belong in their neighborhood. And they are connected not to each other – to neighbors, to community, to family – but umbilically to a television set and to an automobile.

They do not have time to read, to talk, to form community. For life is a fever of work and commuting and flying and drinking and playing, and hypertension and self-gratification.

What remains of the human person? Where is human dignity? What is man and woman that God should care about them? What is the purpose of it all? I made them a little lower than angels and they have made themselves pleasure machines and collectors of things. I blew into them the fire of soul, spirit, inner life – the deepest qualities of humanity. And they have separated themselves from Me, from each other and from even themselves.