USCJ Review - Fall 2004
Tzedakah: Our Responsibility to the “Other”
Why should Jews contribute to non-Jewish causes? There are plenty of reasons why we might choose not to. First, our brothers and sisters in Israel are under siege. When their travails have ended, we can consider the “others” of the world. Second, anti-Semitism appears to be rampant in Europe, even in countries like Belgium, which protected Jews under the Nazis. Indeed, it might be argued that only Jews can protect Jews, as we have learned from our long historical experience.
For the most part, Jews in North America have proved an exception, winning general acceptance (although, as recently as during the past 50 years, there has been a certain amount of social and economic discrimination). But in the last 25 years, acceptance – and assimilation – have been widespread.
Still, such a rigid classification – Jewish or non-Jewish – is too simplistic. Specifically when speaking about tzedakah, we do not effectively attempt to refine the category of charitable giving outside of Jewish sponsorship. As has been evident in the type of non-denominational recipients of aid by such groups as Ziv, each cause must be treated on its own terms.
Should we contribute to non-Jewish causes? Whatever the answer, the reality is, we do. In fact, “More American Jews today give money to non-Jewish causes than to Jewish charities. Of the $5.3 billion donated by the 123 wealthiest Jews, only $318 million went to Jewish institutions” (“To Jews or Not to Jews?”, Moment, December 2003). The wealthy Jews described here are an anomaly. What about the rest of us? How are we allocating our tzedakah? How should we be allocating it?
We read in Deuteronomy 15:7-8: “If... 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.” Sufficient for whatever he needs? In a world where billions of people are living on $1-$2 a day?
Mathematically, Jews have sufficient money to ensure that the Jewish people are not poor. In fact, according to Professor Gerald Bubis of Hebrew Union College in Los Angeles, “Jews are the most financially successful ethnic group in the United States, with a median household income of about $50,000, twice the median for the American population in general.” In the Middle Ages, communal social norms guaranteed that the poor would live at a reasonable economic level. If the kehillah did not have enough money, it could appropriate funds from the wealthy to sustain the poor. In some socialist European countries, this is done today through the tax codes – in some countries, marginal tax rates go as high as 93%.
How much giving is enough? The Shulhan Arukh (Yoreh Deah 250:1) tells us: “If he is hungry, he should be fed. If he needs clothes, he should be provided with clothes. If he has no household furniture or utensils, furniture and utensils should be provided. If he needs to be spoon-fed, then we must spoon-feed him.”
And from Ketubot 67b: “Our rabbis taught: ‘Sufficient for his need’ (implies) you are commanded to maintain him, but you are not commanded to make him rich; ‘in that which he wanteth’ (includes) even a horse to ride upon and a slave to run before him. It was related about Hillel the Elder that he bought for a certain poor man who was of a good family, a horse to ride upon and a slave to run before him. On one occasion he could not find a slave to run before him, so he himself ran before him for three miles.” From this we may infer that dignity is an important value.
To whom should we give? Rambam states (Matanot Aniyim 7:13): “A man’s poor relative has priority over any person; the poor in his own household have priority over the poor in his town; the poor in his town have priority over the poor of another town as it is written: Open your hand to your brother, to your needy, to your poor in your land” (Deut. 15:11). This would imply that we help those communities closest to us; the further away, the less we need to be mindful of other communities.
And yet – we read in Exodus Rabbah 31:14: “If all the suffering and pain in the world were gathered (one side of a scale), and poverty was on the other side, poverty would outweigh them all.” In other words, we have an absolute responsibility to the poor. Until 1850, most people lived and died within five miles of their home, so they never saw the poor outside of their own communities. But that is not so today. We know all too well of the millions starving in Africa. What is our obligation?
In Yoma 84b we read: “Our Rabbis taught: One must remove debris to save a life on the Sabbath, and the more eager one is, the more praiseworthy is one; and one need not obtain permission from the Beth Din. How so? If one saw a child falling into the sea, he spreads a net and brings it up — the faster the better, and he need not obtain permission from the Beth Din though he thereby catches fish [in his net]. If he saw a child fall into a pit, he breaks loose one segment [of the entrenchment] and pulls it up — the faster the better; and he need not obtain permission of the Beth Din, even though he is thereby making a step [stairs]. If he saw a door closing upon an infant, he may break it, so as to get the child out — the faster the better; and he need not obtain permission from the Beth Din, though he thereby consciously makes chips of wood. One may extinguish and isolate [the fire] in the case of a conflagration — the sooner the better, and he need not obtain permission from the Beth Din, even though he subdues the flames.”
Today, we see the children. We see them in newspaper articles, on TV, in the movies. We know that they are there.
We are taught, regarding the Patriarch Abraham: “Looking up, he saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them and bowing to the ground he said, ‘My Lords, if it please you, do not go on past your servant.’” Abraham did not ask them who they were. He filled their needs, without question.
Rambam tells us (Hilkhot Avodat Kokhavim V’Hukkoteihem 10:5): “We need to provide sustenance for poor idol worshipers with the poor of Israel, in order to create roads of peace (darkhey shalom). One should not rebuke Gentiles from taking leket, shikhaha, and pe’ah for the sake of peace.” And, from Messekhet Gittin (61a): “We provide (financial) support to the Gentile poor along with the Jewish poor and we visit the Gentile sick along with the Jewish sick and we bury the Gentile dead along with the Jewish dead. Because, these are some of the ways that foster harmony.”
Today, with billions of people living on only a few dollars a day and millions of children under the age of 15 working either full- or part-time, how should we think about our obligations? Do we refrain from helping them because we still do not see them? And what of those workers who constitute the “invisible America,” who work hard but can barely pay their bills? Some sew clothes, clean offices and harvest fruit. Others serve Big Macs and stack merchandise at Wal-Mart. They package lights for children’s bicycles and assemble books of wallpaper samples. They cannot afford the wallpaper themselves, just as the man who washes cars does not own one. The assistant teacher cannot pay the fees to put her own children in the day-care center where she works.
Rabbi Chiyya advised his wife: “When a poor person comes to the door, give him food so that the same may be done to your (our) children. She exclaimed, ‘You are cursing our children,’ but Rabbi Chiyya replied, ‘There is a wheel which revolves in this world’ ” (Shabbat 151b).
Rabbi Chiyya recognized that, without warning, our lives may turn upside down. We need to understand the “other” – and, even more, to learn from him. Today, the Jewish community has not been as responsive as it should on issues concerning the working poor, domestic violence, special needs, and substance abuse. On these issues we can learn from people such as Ranya Kelly – better known as the “Shoe Lady of Denver” – who retrieves discarded goods from our nation’s manufacturers and retailers. Ranya reports that her warehouse is so full that she is now storing items outside with tarps to protect them from the elements.
How do we balance building a new wing for our synagogue against relieving starvation in Africa? In a world where you click on a picture of a rug and a nine-yearold in Pakistan starts to weave his knots, how do you decide how to allocate your money? The world is more interconnected than ever before, and our tradition requires that we allocate our funds relative to the needs of both the Jewish and the non-Jewish world. Clearly, Jews – and Jewish institutions – need to think hard when making these decisions.
The author is a second-year rabbinical student at the Jewish Theological Seminary, who – after 30 years on Wall Street – is starting a second career. A USCJ Board member, he teaches business ethics at the Columbia University Business School.
