This month I’d like to combine a few typical monthly thoughts with our
usual feature of Why do we . . .
Judaism has a notion which seems to run so counter to current American
societal values (and it’s not just restricted to the USA). That
value is essentially: "Amass all the wealth you can attain and
consider a few charitable crumbs with the left-overs."
A recent Wall Street Journal article profiled hedge fund
managers who think little of paying $8,000 for a bottle of
wine at an exclusive New York City restaurant. Now, I dare
say these hedge fund managers need some tax planning so
they find tax-deductible outlets for cash, tangible property,
and appreciated securities.
While many of the super-wealthy do indeed have a deep
sense of altruism (witness Warren Buffet, Bill Gates, and most recently, casinomagnate
Sheldon Adelson, who is committing $200 million per year to Jewish
causes), in so many cases it seems that the $8,000 wine comes first and "charities"
are just the by-product of large incomes.
Despite the ascetic cults of the Dead Sea Scroll community and other ascetic
communities in the Hellenistic world, Judaism did not eschew wealth. The Talmud
even goes so far as to declare in typical hyperbole: "A poor person might as
well be dead." And we know the wisdom of Tevye: "It is no great shame to be
poor, but it’s no great honor either."
Hence, tzedakah evolves as a mitzvah – with a definition far different from
the implication of "charity" in Western cultures. Tzedakah comes from tzedek -
justice - doing the right thing. In other words, tzedakah is not optional. It is as
mandatory as any of the other 612 mitzvot.
A goal for the Jew, then, is certainly one of achieving material success, but
in the process of attaining that success, remembering to show gratitude for those
blessings through the fulfilling of the mitzvah of tzedakah.
On the other side of the equation, the tradition also saw danger in the other
extreme - that of excessive tzedakah. It is possible to give away so much that you
yourself are then in need of tzedakah. Through halachic machinations, the magic
number is 20%. One may not give away more than 20% of one’s assets in a given
year without running the risk of needing tzedakah.
That brings me to one of the most basic ways of expressing tzedakah that
our tradition discovered - tzedakah as appreciation for honors. A scholar of the
High Holy Day liturgy goes so far as to assert that the reason we have so many ark
openings and closings in the High Holy Day services is to bestow honors upon
individuals who in turn would show appreciation for those honors through giving
tzedakah to the synagogue.
I have enjoyed many bottles of fine wine with several oenophiles in the
synagogue. None have quite hit the $8,000 range (or even $800, for that matter).
But it is wonderful to know that so many of us share the right perspective. On
occasions of birthdays or anniversaries, simchas or tragedies, aliyot or honors,
that mitzvot of tzedakah remains an integral part of the lives of so many. Consider
that mitzvot on the next occasion for celebration or memory.
A Happy 2007 to All!