ד) אֶ֕פֶס כִּ֛י לֹ֥א יִֽהְיֶה־בְּךָ֖ אֶבְי֑וֹן כִּֽי־בָרֵ֤ךְ יְבָֽרֶכְךָ֙ ה' בָּאָ֕רֶץ אֲשֶׁר֙ ה' אֱלֹקֶ֔יךָ נֹֽתֵן־לְךָ֥ נַחֲלָ֖ה לְרִשְׁתָּֽהּ׃
ז) כִּֽי־יִהְיֶה֩ בְךָ֨ אֶבְי֜וֹן מֵאַחַ֤ד אַחֶ֙יךָ֙ בְּאַחַ֣ד שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ בְּאַ֨רְצְךָ֔ אֲשֶׁר־ה' אֱלֹקֶ֖יךָ נֹתֵ֣ן לָ֑ךְ לֹ֧א תְאַמֵּ֣ץ אֶת־לְבָבְךָ֗ וְלֹ֤א תִקְפֹּץ֙ אֶת־יָ֣דְךָ֔ מֵאָחִ֖יךָ הָאֶבְיֽוֹן׃ ח) כִּֽי־פָתֹ֧חַ תִּפְתַּ֛ח אֶת־יָדְךָ֖ ל֑וֹ וְהַעֲבֵט֙ תַּעֲבִיטֶ֔נּוּ דֵּ֚י מַחְסֹר֔וֹ אֲשֶׁ֥ר יֶחְסַ֖ר לֽוֹ׃ ט) הִשָּׁ֣מֶר לְךָ֡ פֶּן־יִהְיֶ֣ה דָבָר֩ עִם־לְבָבְךָ֨ בְלִיַּ֜עַל לֵאמֹ֗ר קָֽרְבָ֣ה שְׁנַֽת־הַשֶּׁבַע֮ שְׁנַ֣ת הַשְּׁמִטָּה֒ וְרָעָ֣ה עֵֽינְךָ֗ בְּאָחִ֙יךָ֙ הָֽאֶבְי֔וֹן וְלֹ֥א תִתֵּ֖ן ל֑וֹ וְקָרָ֤א עָלֶ֙יךָ֙ אֶל־ה' וְהָיָ֥ה בְךָ֖ חֵֽטְא׃ י) נָת֤וֹן תִּתֵּן֙ ל֔וֹ וְלֹא־יֵרַ֥ע לְבָבְךָ֖ בְּתִתְּךָ֣ ל֑וֹ כִּ֞י בִּגְלַ֣ל ׀ הַדָּבָ֣ר הַזֶּ֗ה יְבָרֶכְךָ֙ ה' אֱלֹקֶ֔יךָ בְּכָֽל־מַעֲשֶׂ֔ךָ וּבְכֹ֖ל מִשְׁלַ֥ח יָדֶֽךָ׃ יא) כִּ֛י לֹא־יֶחְדַּ֥ל אֶבְי֖וֹן מִקֶּ֣רֶב הָאָ֑רֶץ עַל־כֵּ֞ן אָנֹכִ֤י מְצַוְּךָ֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר פָּ֠תֹחַ תִּפְתַּ֨ח אֶת־יָדְךָ֜ לְאָחִ֧יךָ לַעֲנִיֶּ֛ךָ וּלְאֶבְיֹנְךָ֖ בְּאַרְצֶֽךָ׃ (ס)
4. There shall be no needy among you—since the LORD your God will bless you in the land that the LORD your God is giving you as a hereditary portion—
7. 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. 8. Rather, you must open your hand and lend him sufficient for whatever he needs. 9. Beware lest you harbor the base thought, “The seventh year, the year of remission, is approaching,” so that you are mean to your needy kinsman and give him nothing. He will cry out to the LORD against you, and you will incur guilt. 10. Give to him readily and have no regrets when you do so, for in return the LORD your God will bless you in all your efforts and in all your undertakings. 11. For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land, which is why I command you: open your hand to the poor and needy kinsman in your land.
§ The mishna teaches: One does not protest against poor gentiles who come to take gleanings, forgotten sheaves, and the produce in the corner of the field, which is given to the poor [pe’a], on account of the ways of peace. Similarly, the Sages taught in a baraita (Tosefta 5:4): One sustains poor gentiles along with poor Jews, and one visits sick gentiles along with sick Jews, and one buries dead gentiles along with dead Jews. All this is done on account of the ways of peace, to foster peaceful relations between Jews and gentiles.
How is this type of giving likely to be applied in practice?
Peter Singer
As I write this, in November 1971, people are dying in East Bengal from lack of food, shelter, and medical care. The suffering and death that are occurring there now are not inevitable, not unavoidable in any fatalistic sense of the term. Constant poverty, a cyclone, and a civil war have turned at least nine million people into destitute refugees; nevertheless, it is not beyond the capacity of the richer nations to give enough assistance to reduce any further suffering to very small proportions. The decisions and actions of human beings can prevent this kind of suffering
…
What are the moral implications of a situation like this? In what follows, I shall argue that the way people in relatively affluent countries react to a situation like that in Bengal cannot be justified; indeed, the whole way we look at moral issues-our moral conceptual scheme -needs to be altered.
…
I begin with the assumption that suffering and death from lack of food, shelter, and medical care are bad. I think most people will agree about this, although one may reach the same view by different routes.
…
My next point is this: If it is in our power to prevent something very bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything morally significant, we ought, morally, to do it. An application of this principle would be as follows: if I am walking past a shallow pond and see a child drowning in it, I ought to wade in and pull the child out. This will mean getting my clothes muddy, but this is insignificant, while the death of the child would presumably be a very bad thing.
…
The uncontroversial appearance of the principle just stated is deceptive. If it were acted upon, even in its qualified form, our lives, our society, and our world would be fundamentally changed. For the principle takes, firstly, no account of proximity or distance. It makes no moral difference whether the person I can help is a neighbor's child ten yards from me or a Bengali whose name I shall never know, ten thousand miles away. Secondly, the principle makes no distinction between cases in which I am the only person who could possibly do anything and cases in which I am just one among millions in the same position.
…
The outcome of this argument is that our traditional moral categories are upset. The traditional distinction between duty and charity cannot be drawn, or at least, not in the place we normally draw it… Because giving money is regarded as an act of charity, it is not thought that there is anything wrong with not giving. The charitable man may be praised, but the man who is not charitable is not condemned. People do not feel in any way ashamed or guilty about spending money on new clothes or a new car instead of giving it to famine relief. (Indeed, the alternative does not occur to them.) This way of looking at the matter cannot be justified.
…
If philosophy is to deal with matters that are relevant to both teachers and students, this is an issue that philosophers should discuss. Discussion, though, is not enough. What is the point of relating philosophy to public (and personal) affairs if we do not take our conclusions seriously? In this instance, taking our conclusion seriously means acting upon it.
Assuming limited resources, who should we give to? Should there be a hierarchy of giving?
What are the premises of the Torah's, Singer's, and Rand's philosophies of giving? How will these different approaches shape the application of Tzedaka?
(א) שִׁעוּר נְתִינָתָהּ, אִם יָדוֹ מַשֶּׂגֶת, יִתֵּן כְּפִי צֹרֶךְ הָעֲנִיִּים. וְאִם אֵין יָדוֹ מַשֶּׂגֶת כָּל כָּךְ, יִתֵּן עַד חֹמֶשׁ נְכָסָיו, מִצְוָה מִן הַמֻּבְחָר; וְאֶחָד מֵעֲשָׂרָה, מִדָּה בֵּינוֹנִית; פָּחוֹת מִכָּאן, עַיִן רָעָה. וְחֹמֶשׁ זֶה שֶׁאָמְרוּ, שָׁנָה רִאשׁוֹנָה מֵהַקֶּרֶן, מִכָּאן וָאֵילָךְ חֹמֶשׁ שֶׁהִרְוִיחַ בְּכָל שָׁנָה. הַגָּה: וְאַל יְבַזְבֵּז אָדָם יוֹתֵר מֵחֹמֶשׁ, שֶׁלֹּא יִצְטָרֵךְ לַבְּרִיּוֹת. (בֵּית יוֹסֵף בְּשֵׁם הַגְּמָרָא פ' נַעֲרָה שֶׁנִּתְפַּתְּתָה) וְדַוְקָא כָּל יְמֵי חַיָּיו, אֲבָל בִּשְׁעַת מוֹתוֹ יָכוֹל אָדָם לִתֵּן צְדָקָה כָּל מַה שֶּׁיִּרְצֶה (ג''ז שָׁם פ' מְצִיאַת הָאִשָּׁה וּמַיְתֵי לָהּ רִי''ף וְרֹא''שׁ וְרַ''ן וּמָרְדְּכַי). וְאֵין לַעֲשׂוֹת מִמַּעֲשֵׁר שֶׁלּוֹ דְּבַר מִצְוָה, כְּגוֹן נֵרוֹת לְבֵית הַכְּנֶסֶת אוֹ שְׁאָר דְּבַר מִצְוָה, רַק יִתְּנֶנּוּ לַעֲנִיִּים. (מהרי''ל הל' רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה).
(1) The amount one should give [is as follows]. If one can afford it, he should give according to the needs of the poor. If one can not afford so much, he should give up to a fifth of his wealth - that is the best [way of performing] the mitzvah. A medium way is to give a tenth. Less than that is stingy. Giving a fifth that was referred to, means the first year from one's overall assets, and from then on giving a fifth of one's earnings annually. Note: A person should not waste more than a fifth so he should not be dependent on others. This is during his lifetime, but when he is about to pass away he can give as much charity as he wishes. A person should not use his charity to perform mitzvot such as [giving] candles to the synagogue etc., but he should give it to the poor.
What about sponsoring a kiddush at the synagogue?
What about ideological causes - an organization that offers advocacy services for agunot? A program that provides educational services for disadvantaged populations? A lobby trying to end arms sales to violent regimes?
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
There is a name for this idea in Judaism: tikkun olam, mending or perfecting the world. Of all the ideas in Judaism’s ethics of responsibility it is the least halakhic, the least rooted in law. Its origins, we will see, are mystical. Not everything of religious significance in Judaism can be expressed in precise formulas: laws, codes of conduct, guidelines that do not change from one generation to the next, one situation to the next. Tikkun olam is something each of us does differently. It is an expression of the faith that it is no accident that we are here, in this time and place, with these gifts and capacities, and this opportunity to make a positive difference to the world. This belief is known as divine providence (in Hebrew, hashgahah peratit): the idea that God is operative in our lives as individuals, not only, as the Greek philosophers believed, concerned with universals. We are here because someone wanted us to be and because there is a task that only we can fulfil. No two people, places, times and circumstances are the same. Where what I can do meets what needs to be done – there is God’s challenge and our task.
