In this video, Hanan asks his father questions about who “deserves” tzedakah with a directness that many people feel but don’t always articulate. Hanan’s father helps him see that the questions Hanan asks and the way in which he asks them are filled with judgement and assumptions that represent the antithesis of tzedakah.

The laws of tzedakah ask us to take a very different approach to how we think about a minimum of 10% of our money. Tzedakah is not about “the rich” giving to “the poor” out of the goodness of “their” hearts. Rather, these laws apply to all of us—no matter who we are.

As you work your way through this study guide, consider the following questions as we examine the meaning and obligations of tzedakah:

Defining the Term

Daddy explains to Hanan that his question is not about charity.

Maimonides says that a person should give according to their ability. He also provides a required percentage range. He knew that most people would give much less than 10% if they were to determine their own ability to give. (According to a recent study, only 49.6% of American households made charitable donations of any amount in 2018.) A minimum of 10% requires thought and intention, both of which are central to the tzedakah obligation.

There are many questions about what funds to include in the minimum 10%. For example, is this 10% of a person’s wealth before or after taxes? Can we count taxes as part of the 10% we give? If so, how much of our taxes can we count?

While these are legitimate questions, delving into these details is beyond the scope of this study guide. In addition, these questions too often provide an excuse to keep us from fulfilling the basic needs of others.

Daddy notes that tzedakah is a responsibility. He also explains that the most desirable way to give tzedakah is to do so from a place of both love and responsibility.

Tzedakah means both justice and charity, because we believe that they go hand in hand. Justice is impersonal; charity is personal…That is the meaning of tzedakah, an act that combines both justice and love. Giving to others is one of the most beautiful things we can do, and one of the most creative. We create possibilities for other people. We soften some of the rough edges of the world. We help alleviate poverty and pain. We give God the sacrifice He most desires of us: that we honor His image in other people. Nothing more marks Judaism as a religion of love than its emphasis on tzedakah. We do not accept poverty, hunger, homelessness or disease as God’s will. To the contrary, God’s will is that we heal these fractures in His world. As God feeds the hungry, so must we. As God heals the sick, so must we. We become good by doing good. We walk in God’s ways by acting out of love. (full piece here).

Both Daddy and Rabbi Sacks remind us that how we give tzedakah is important. They describe a model of an exemplary approach to giving tzedakah. Many texts remind us of the importance of kindness and love in giving tzedakah.

While the Bible itself does not use the word tzedakah to refer to mandated monetary gifts to the poor, the early Rabbis – beginning in the first centuries of the Common Era – assume that tzedakah does refer to such financial assistance. Given that the Rabbis do not find it necessary to justify this definition of tzedakah, we may assume that the association of the term with charitable giving was already well established by the beginning of the Common Era.

Though the word tzedakah often is used interchangeably with gemilut hasadim, technically, tzedakah is a subset of gemilut hasadim/acts of kindness. As we have seen, there is a prescribed required amount for tzedakah. There is no prescribed required amount for gemilut hasadim since it must be done as needs arise and each person is expected to do what they are able.

There are many ways to give tzedakah. Some are considered at a higher level than others.The classic text that outlines these levels is Maimonides’ eight levels of tzedakah. Note that the word “love” is not found in his list. Even more than love from the person giving tzedakah, it is the dignity of the recipient that is at the center of the Jewish view of tzedakah.

(Maimonides’ complete eight levels of tzedakah can be found here, which includes examples for levels 2 through 4.)

Daddy understands the connection between tzedakah and dignity.

With tzedakah, there is a power imbalance between the one giving and the one receiving. Our sages understood that the person receiving is especially vulnerable emotionally. They taught that special care must be made regarding the dignity of the recipient. They also recognize that dignity is complicated, because it is unique to each person. An essential aspect of tzedakah is the obligation to preserve the dignity of each person who receives it.

The context in which this final story appears is a description of Rav Hana’s home, destroyed and in disrepair. The sages, upon seeing his home, remember Rav Hana’s great wealth and generosity in earlier times and mourn upon seeing the ruins. This may help us understand their description of Rav Hana’s concern for the unique dignity of someone who had once been well-off and now needs the financial support of the community.

The Hebrew word kavod/כבוד means “dignity, respect, or honor” when referring to people. When this word is used regarding God, it often is translated as “Presence.” Kavod/כבוד is shared by both humans and The Divine. Perhaps a key to being sensitive to the dignity of other people can be found in recognizing that all people are connected to The Divine through this intangible but essential concept of kavod/כבוד.

When Hanan talks about the woman in the article, he makes assumptions that separate him from her. Teachings on tzedakah and dignity ask us to see and act from our shared humanity. We are all connected to The Divine.

This imagined rebuke from the Holy One of a “rich person” judging a “poor person” could be directed at Hanan’s rush to judgement. This text assumes that, on some level, all of the skills and resources we have are gifts. We don’t know another person’s full story. All we can know is that none of us are superior to another human being.

Many sources suggest that giving directly to a person who asks for money (in a discreet and respectful way) is not just about the actual gift, as the following texts indicate:

For Maimonides, responding positively to… [a person asking for money] is an expression of compassion, not a provision of material needs. It is loving kindness more than tzedakah that is commanded here.

Maimonides seeks to have it both ways: do not undermine the organized welfare system by giving large gifts that encourage entrepreneurial begging, but do not harden your heart in the day-to-day interchanges when human beings ask to be seen and to be cared for.

Hanan is convinced that he knows what is wrong with the mother he read about in the article. He is judging someone he doesn’t know, based on one article, which very likely does not tell the entire story. His judgement and his sense of superiority blind him to the humanity of the person he is judging; they reflect a blindness to his own limitations.

Jewish law does not require that we abandon any sense of discernment or that we give large amounts of money indiscriminately to anyone who asks for it. We are expected to be discerning, but we are not to allow the need for discernment to keep us from giving tzedakah.

The texts above are examples of many in which we see that the Rabbis understand both the responsibility to give and also the need to be discerning. They recognize that finding the balance is not always easy, and they respectfully disagree on how to find that balance. The important point is that they engage in the conversation, not as an excuse to avoid giving, but as a way to give in what they hope will be the most effective and dignified way possible.

Sometimes the need for discernment becomes an excuse not to give.

The merit of tzedakah is so great that I am happy to give to 100 beggars even if only one might actually be needy. Some people, however, act as if they are exempt from giving tzedakah to one hundred beggars in the event that one might be a fraud.

In this case, both Hanan and Daddy eventually judge that the mother is stuck, based on nothing more than a newspaper article. In reality, we often don’t have enough information about individual situations to truly know what would be helpful to another person, especially if we don’t have the opportunity to speak with that person. But rather than let these assumptions provide an excuse not to help, Daddy shows Hanan how to think more creatively about how to help both the mother and her child.

“In addition to being a means of meeting...immediate physical needs…, tzedakah ideally aims to transform the system into one that is more equitable for the most vulnerable members of society.”

We have tried to avoid words like “beggar,” “the poor,” “the needy,” etc. in this study guide, as they define a person in a very narrow and often negative way. People who persevere despite a very difficult situation might also be described as “resilient,” “creative,” or “resourceful.” However, the very words we tried to avoid are found extensively within the original texts. We believe that it is important to acknowledge that this aspect of these texts may not be helpful.

For modern texts or commentaries on the topic of tzedakah, such as this study guide, we can try to be aware of how we define and unintentionally stigmatize people. Note that when Hanan talks about giving tzedakah, he constantly talks about “poor people” or “people in need.” Daddy, on the other hand, is more likely to say “people.”

The ways in which we refer to other people shape our perception as well as our feelings.

There is a fascinating feature of the geography of the land of Israel. It contains two seas: the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. The Sea of Galilee is full of life: fish, birds, vegetation. The Dead Sea, as its name implies, is not. Yet they are fed by the same river, the Jordan. The difference is that the Sea of Galilee receives water at one end and gives out water at the other. The Dead Sea receives but does not give. The Jordan ends there. To receive but not to give is, in Jewish geography as well as Jewish psychology, simply not life. To live is to give.

This legend is the conclusion to Daddy’s lesson to Hanan. He reminds Hanan that we all receive. As a result, in order to thrive we must give. All of us. Even a person who receives tzedakah must give tzedakah.

The following poem by Danny Siegel is a commentary on this teaching from Maimonides. He reminds us of something that both Hanan and Daddy missed: The mother is the expert regarding her own life.

Even a poor man must give Tzedakah

He knows what it is like:

He knows the people,

where it is best to give,

and how much.

Better than we know.

He is our Rebbi –

we should follow him on his rounds.