By Rabbi Leonard Rosenthal
SAN DIEGO–Most people agree that everyone has an obligation to give tzedaka. What they don’t agree on is how much money is an appropriate gift. When we hear, “give until it hurts,” we believe that our neighbors have a much lower pain threshold than ourselves.
I am often envious of Mormons. Their churches require that their members tithe, that is, contribute ten percent of their income to the church every year. Many Mormons comply (that is one of the reasons they have such beautiful and prominent buildings).
Synagogues, on the other hand, rely on the generosity of their members and hope that they give in proportion to their means. We do not, however, distribute a chart specifying the amount of a “meaningful gift.”
A story is told about two chassidim, one from Kotzk and one from Chernobyl. They were discussing how the chassidim in each city live.The chassid from Chernobyl said, “In Chernobyl there are three essential elements to chassidic life. One, we spend every Friday night in a state of spiritual ecstasy. Two, every erev Shabbat, every Friday afternoon, we give money to tzedaka. Three, On every Shabbat afternoon we read the entire Book of Psalms.”
The chassid from Kotzk shook his head and said, “That is not how we live in Kotzk. First, we don’t spend only Friday night is a state of spiritual ecstacy, we feel the fullness of God’s Presence every evening. Two, we don’t just give tzedaka on erev Shabbat, but we reach into our pockets every time we see a poor person. Three, we never recite the entire Book of Psalms at one time, we take our time and savor every word.”
The story seems to imply that the chassid from Kotzk was the better Jew. He spent more time in spiritual ecstacy, gave tzedaka more frequently, and took his time reading the Book of Psalms. I, however, am not sure. The chassid from Kotzk sounds rather arrogant to me. He is trying to “one-up” his neighbor.
Additionally, what is not compared in the story is the quality of each chassid’s experience. It may well be that the chassid from Kotzk never reached the same spiritual height, nor gave the same total amount of tzedaka, nor read the Book of Psalms with the same depth of understanding as did the chassid from Kotzk.
In Parashat Vayikra the Torah says that when the Cohen sacrificed a bird to God, it produced a “pleasing odor to the Lord.” Similarly, when the Cohen sacrificed a large animal, such as a bull, sheep, or goat to God, it also produced a “pleasing odor to the Lord.” (Lev. 1:3-17)
This is counterintuitive. Shouldn’t the Torah have distinguished between the sacrifice of a bird and that of a large animal? Shouldn’t the sacrifice of an expensive cow be more pleasing to God than that of a small bird? Why are these disparate offerings equally acceptable?
Rashi explains: “One person may bring a little and the other a lot, but the amount is inconsequential. What is important is that each inclines their heart toward heaven.” (Rashi on Lev. 1:17)
The quantity of the sacrifice is not important, the quality is what matters. But not the quality of the animal that is brought, but rather the quality of sacred intent of the one who brings the offering.
Coming back to our example of tzedaka, more important than the amount of a gift to tzedaka is the quality of sacred intent of the giver. If one is of modest means and gives to the best of their ability, knowing that their gift is more than they can afford, than they have given a meaningful gift. On the other hand, if someone of greater means gives less than they can afford and gives it grudgingly, “without inclining his head toward heaven,” then this is a not an appropriate gift.
Only we know in our hearts and from our budgets how much tzedaka we are required to give. When making this decision it is always the amount of money in our wallets that we should be counting, and not what we think is in our neighbor’s pockets.
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Rabbi Rosenthal is spiritual leader of Tifereth Israel Synagogue in San Diego. He may be contacted at leonard.rosenthal@sdjewishworld.com