You know that feeling when you walk into a grocery store, and you just need to buy a box of cereal, a tube of toothpaste, or a bar of soap, and suddenly you're standing in front of a thousand different options? It can be so overwhelming, crippling almost, that you wish you never needed the product in the first place! Sometimes I feel that way about tzedakah, about giving to charity. I receive so many different letters, so many diverse solicitations, that I almost prefer to give to none of the above, rather than having to read through all the letters and learn about every organization.
So how do we navigate these challenges in order to achieve a favorable outcome? The answer should never be that we just don't give any tzedakah, so considering that we still want to give, how do we prioritize and focus our efforts? More importantly, and perhaps central to this issue, what does it really mean, to give tzedakah? Understanding the meaning of tzedakah is, I believe, the key to helping us make informed and rewarding decisions about giving to charity.
Let us begin in this week's Torah portion, R'eih. In Deuteronomy, chapter 15, verses 7-8, we read the following: "If, however, there is a needy person among you, one of your kinsmen in any of your settlements in the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kinsman. Rather, you must open your hand and lend him
sufficient for whatever he needs." These verses teach us a couple of essential truths about tzedakah. First, we cannot harden our hearts, meaning that we should give lovingly. Don't make others feel demeaned or humiliated if they are in need, but instead find ways to preserve their dignity. Furthermore, find causes that you care about, charities that you will want to get involved in, that inspire you and might even offer you opportunities to get personally involved, and that make you feel better about yourself and the people you are helping.
We also learn that we must open our hands and give of ourselves. And in the same verse we also see a surprising revelation. The Torah doesn't tell us to give charity, in the way we traditionally understand it today. It says "lend him," and only "sufficient for whatever he needs," meaning that the goal of tzedakah is to help get other people back on their feet. The medieval philosopher, Rambam, stated this very same notion when he created his eight levels of charitable giving. For Rambam, the highest level is to give someone a job or a loan to help them become self-sufficient, in particular because it gives them a sense of dignity, self-worth, and pride. That is the message of the Torah, echoed by the Rambam, and essential for us today.
I'm sure you've heard this stated many ways, but I always thought it was done best by the 90's
band Arrested Development, who sang a song called "Give a Man a Fish," which includes the lyric, "Teach him how to fish and he'll eat forever." (Rebecca and I both feel that music was just better in the 90's...) The question for us all is, which charities allow us to do this? Yes, it's true that we also have to support those organizations that meet immediate needs, that provide toys for needy children, soup kitchens for the homeless, and aid for parts of the country or the world after a natural disaster. These are all crucial causes. But we also have an obligation to look down the road, to think about long-term solutions to enormous problems. And when we are being inundated with solicitations, and there's a risk that we'll just tune out and wind up giving nothing, I think a focused approach with a set of values and priorities guiding our decisions, may help lead the way and direct our giving.
Most of us don't feel we have the time to teach someone how to fish, whether with a fishing rod and a slimy worm or in the metaphoric sense. Getting personally, emotionally, financially, or physically involved in a cause is time consuming and challenging. But maybe, with the High Holidays and the start of a new year around the corner, it's something worth considering. And if that won't work for you, at least consider what it means to "open your hands" and avoid "hardening your heart." How might your tzedakah look different if these became your guiding principles? Fish... I mean, food, for thought...
Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of rynosoft on Flickr
2. CC image courtesy of Lars P. on Flickr
3. CC image courtesy of rumpleteaser on Flickr
4. CC image courtesy of Egan Snow on Flickr
5. CC image courtesy of Minarae on Flickr
6. Image courtesy of Pat Crowe Photography
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