Mankind will not perish for want of information; but only for want of appreciation. – Abraham Joshua Heschel z”l
Heschel wrote those words long before the advent of the Internet. His words are truer today than ever before: we are drowning in information.
When I first began to study Judaism, I read everything I could find. The Internet was in its infancy, and there was not yet much there, but I scoured the public library, the congregation’s library, used book stores, and anywhere else I might be able to buy, beg, or borrow Jewish information. I was fortunate in finding a Jewish independent book store owner who was both kind and ethical: he’d sell me one book at a time, and ask me to come back and tell him what I thought of it before I got another.
Now, with so many sources online, and with much of our book-buying online, it’s a whole new world. I worry for my students: if you Google the word “Jew” or anything like it, you get a wild mix of Jewish information, messianic information, and anti-Semitic filth, and they are not always easy to distinguish from one another. The quality of the Jewish information is uneven.
Facts alone do not make a good Jew, or even a good person. I can study about tzedakah all day long, but until I givetzedakah, I will be ignorant about it. I can learn all the prayers in Hebrew, but if I do not actually pray, it is a pointless exercise. Judaism is a religion of doing. One of the things we do is study, but if we stop there, we are failing to fulfill our mission as Jews.
What does this have to do with Heschel’s appreciation? We appreciate the world and its wonders by engaging with the world via mitzvot. The pause for a blessing gives me a moment to appreciate the food I am about to eat. Giving tzedakah reminds me to appreciate my economic power, even if that power is small. Saying my morning prayers properly helps me appreciate the fact of life itself and the body within which I live it.
The blessings for mitzvot include the phrase “Who sanctifies us with mitzvot.” This reminds us that the mitzvot are there to make us holy by sanctifying our experiences. With every pause for appreciation, every mitzvah, we invite the Holy to break in upon our mundane existence. Amazement crashes in upon the world, bringing life itself to life.
“Giving Tuesday:” It’s a new tradition, started recently, and while I am glad that people are giving charity, it seems to me that the timing is backwards. We have the banquet on Thanksgiving, the shopping on “Black” Friday, the sales over the weekend, and “Cyber” Monday. The message seems to be that after we’ve had our dinner and done our shopping sprees, then we will give to the needy from what’s left.
It is a Jewish tradition to give tzedakah (money to relieve suffering – a form of the word for justice, tzedek) before every holiday. That means giving tzedakah on Friday, before Shabbat, and before sundown brings in any other holiday or celebration.
You may be thinking, “Ouch! that’s a lot of tzedakah!” but the amount isn’t specified, just the timing. We give before we celebrate. It helps us better appreciate the good things in our lives. For someone on a very limited budget, the amount would be extremely small, since Jewish law forbids us giving more than we can afford, but for the poor person it gives the dignity of knowing that he or she contributed, too. For someone extremely wealthy, giving regularly from a budget for giving is a way to keep wealth in perspective.
Disciplined giving keeps us awake and aware of the world around us. We cannot ignore the needy, if we give so regularly (after all, we have to choose where to give!) Since Jewish holidays come at least once a week (think Shabbat,) ideally we give small amounts so regularly that giving becomes a habit, part of our nature. Over a lifetime of tzedakah, the greatest benefit accrues to the giver, because he or she becomes a better person.
Shabbat arrives every Friday night. Whether or not you give on Giving Tuesday, I invite you to join me in this ancient spiritual practice of regular tzedakah.
If you Googled “tzedakah” today you got about 598,000 results, topped by a l-o-n-g Wikipedia entry. Here are nine basic facts about tzedakah:
Tzedakah (tzeh-dah-KAH or tzeh-DAH-kah) is the Jewish word closest to “charity.”
The word tzedakah is one of a group of Hebrew words related to the idea of “justice.”
Strictly speaking, tzedakah is money given for the relief of suffering or injustice.
Tzedakah usually refers to monetary gifts, but can also refer to other kinds of contributions.
Jews are commanded to give tzedakah for the benefit of the poor, the sick, and those who have suffered an injustice.
More broadly, people use the word tzedakah to refer to money given for charitable causes.
Every Jew is commanded to give tzedakah, even those who are recipients of tzedakah.
It is customary to give tzedakah in memory of the dead, in honor of others, and before Shabbat and holidays.
The proper amount of tzedakah depends on the means of the giver. Maimonides wrote in the Mishneh Torah that the ideal is 10% of income, and that more than 20% is foolhardy unless given in time of famine or to aid a captive. One should never give so much tzedakah that he puts himself at risk of needing to receive tzedakah from others.
Tzedakah means “money given for charity.” It is a mitzvah, a commandment, to give to reduce the suffering of others.
Some individuals, Ari Fleischer for instance, have come out in the press saying that the changes in the U.S. tax law (that fiscal cliff business) will cause them to reduce their charitable giving. Nonprofits are very worried about exactly this thing. If the tax advantages for giving are reduced, will people give?
Before this change in the rules, some people gave to charity as a “smart” thing to do, taxwise. Give a little money to nonprofits, and while it is still out of your pocket, at least you decide where exactly it went. Certainly that was true, and under a maximum, will still be true.
However, Jews are not commanded to give to the needy because it is “smart.” We are commanded to give to the needy because it is just – hence the name, tzedakah, which comes from tzedek, justice.
There are still hungry people, still homeless people, still people who cannot afford education or healthcare or the other necessities of life. There is still suffering that can be remedied with cash. That does not change.
So how should all of this affect my giving? I can think of two possibile answers:
— Not at all. I am still commanded to give. I personally will still aim for the standard the Rambam suggests, 10%.
— Another possibility: if the need increases because fewer people donate, perhaps I should consider giving more than before. The Rambam is firm that no one should give so much that he endangers his ability to support himself: there IS an upper limit. But perhaps I should keep my mind open about unexpected needs, since the situation may change.
Bottom line: if you gave in the past because it is a mitzvah, then nothing has changed. It’s still a mitzvah, and if predictions come true, there may be greater need than ever.
