(א) וַיִּקְרָ֖א אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיְדַבֵּ֤ר יְהֹוָה֙ אֵלָ֔יו מֵאֹ֥הֶל מוֹעֵ֖ד לֵאמֹֽר׃ (ב) דַּבֵּ֞ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֤י יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ וְאָמַרְתָּ֣ אֲלֵהֶ֔ם אָדָ֗ם כִּֽי־יַקְרִ֥יב מִכֶּ֛ם קׇרְבָּ֖ן לַֽיהֹוָ֑ה מִן־הַבְּהֵמָ֗ה מִן־הַבָּקָר֙ וּמִן־הַצֹּ֔אן תַּקְרִ֖יבוּ אֶת־קׇרְבַּנְכֶֽם׃ (ג) אִם־עֹלָ֤ה קׇרְבָּנוֹ֙ מִן־הַבָּקָ֔ר זָכָ֥ר תָּמִ֖ים יַקְרִיבֶ֑נּוּ אֶל־פֶּ֜תַח אֹ֤הֶל מוֹעֵד֙ יַקְרִ֣יב אֹת֔וֹ לִרְצֹנ֖וֹ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃ (ד) וְסָמַ֣ךְ יָד֔וֹ עַ֖ל רֹ֣אשׁ הָעֹלָ֑ה וְנִרְצָ֥ה ל֖וֹ לְכַפֵּ֥ר עָלָֽיו׃
(1) יהוה called to Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying: (2) Speak to the Israelite people, and say to them: When any of you presents an offering of cattle to יהוה: You shall choose your offering from the herd or from the flock. (3) If your offering is a burnt offering from the herd, you shall make your offering a male without blemish. You shall bring it to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, for acceptance in your behalf before יהוה. (4) You shall lay a hand upon the head of the burnt offering, that it may be acceptable in your behalf, in expiation for you.
Rabbi David Jaffe, "N'divut- Generosity: Giving Away, Bringing Close" in Block, Rabbi Barry H.. The Mussar Torah Commentary: A Spiritual Path to Living a Meaningful and Ethical Life (pp. 149). CCAR Press.
Indeed, the Hebrew word for “sacrifice” is korban, from the root ק-ר-ב, meaning “to draw close.” The entire sacrificial system is an exercise in drawing close and being in relationship with God—and, by extension, with oneself and others. Embedded in the details of the sacrificial system are clues to having successful relationships. The middah of generosity (n’divut, נְדִיבוּת) is central to the process.
Indeed, the Hebrew word for “sacrifice” is korban, from the root ק-ר-ב, meaning “to draw close.” The entire sacrificial system is an exercise in drawing close and being in relationship with God—and, by extension, with oneself and others. Embedded in the details of the sacrificial system are clues to having successful relationships. The middah of generosity (n’divut, נְדִיבוּת) is central to the process.
IS IT ENOUGH TO GIVE / GIVE OUT OF OBLIGATION?
(ז) כִּֽי־יִהְיֶה֩ בְךָ֨ אֶבְי֜וֹן מֵאַחַ֤ד אַחֶ֙יךָ֙ בְּאַחַ֣ד שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ בְּאַ֨רְצְךָ֔ אֲשֶׁר־יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ 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׃
(7) If, however, there is a needy person among you, one of your kin in any of your settlements in the land that your God יהוה is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kin. (8) Rather, you must open your hand and lend whatever is sufficient to meet the need.
וְאָמַר רַבִּי יִצְחָק כׇּל הַנּוֹתֵן פְּרוּטָה לְעָנִי מִתְבָּרֵךְ בְּשֵׁשׁ בְּרָכוֹת וְהַמְפַיְּיסוֹ בִּדְבָרִים מִתְבָּרֵךְ בְּאַחַת עֶשְׂרֵה בְּרָכוֹת
And Rabbi Yitzḥak says: Anyone who gives a peruta to a poor person receives six blessings, and whoever consoles him with words of comfort and encouragement receives eleven blessings.
(ג) אִם־עֹלָ֤ה קׇרְבָּנוֹ֙ מִן־הַבָּקָ֔ר זָכָ֥ר תָּמִ֖ים יַקְרִיבֶ֑נּוּ אֶל־פֶּ֜תַח אֹ֤הֶל מוֹעֵד֙ יַקְרִ֣יב אֹת֔וֹ לִרְצֹנ֖וֹ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃
(3) If your offering is a burnt offering from the herd, you shall make your offering a male without blemish. You shall bring it to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, for acceptance in your behalf before יהוה.
(ד) יקריב אתו. מְלַמֵּד שֶׁכּוֹפִין אוֹתוֹ, יָכוֹל בְּעַל כָּרְחוֹ, תַּלְמוּד לוֹמַר "לִרְצוֹנוֹ", הָא כֵּיצַד? כּוֹפִין אוֹתוֹ עַד שֶׁיֹּאמַר רוֹצֶה אֲנִי (שם):
(4) יקריב אתו HE SHALL OFFER IT — This apparently superfluous word (אתו) teaches us that they (the בי"ד) must put pressure upon him to bring it if he is remiss in bringing the sacrifice he had promised. One might think that this means that they shall force him against his will! Scripture, however, states, לרצונו “[he must bring it] so that it shall be favourably accepted for him”. How is this possible? They press him until he says, “I wish to do it” (Sifra, Vayikra Dibbura d'Nedavah, Section 3 15).
Rabbi David Jaffe, "N'divut- Generosity: Giving Away, Bringing Close"
What happened here? A person desired to draw close to God through a sacrifice, perhaps as a sign of gratitude. They generously committed to offer a cow, sheep, or other animal. However, some time passed and they did not fulfill their pledge. At this point, their freewill act has obligated them to follow through, just like a pledge to a charity. The Jewish court has the license to compel them to fulfill their pledge. Now, we are in the realm of obligation. Still, this offering must have the quality of ratzon (רָצוֹן), “desire” and “favor,” which is associated with “desiring to give out of free will.” For the gift to be favorable to God, its receiver, it needs to be given out of a desire to give, not out of compulsion. The beit din is charged with the difficult task of working with the giver until they realize that they actually desire to give.
What happened here? A person desired to draw close to God through a sacrifice, perhaps as a sign of gratitude. They generously committed to offer a cow, sheep, or other animal. However, some time passed and they did not fulfill their pledge. At this point, their freewill act has obligated them to follow through, just like a pledge to a charity. The Jewish court has the license to compel them to fulfill their pledge. Now, we are in the realm of obligation. Still, this offering must have the quality of ratzon (רָצוֹן), “desire” and “favor,” which is associated with “desiring to give out of free will.” For the gift to be favorable to God, its receiver, it needs to be given out of a desire to give, not out of compulsion. The beit din is charged with the difficult task of working with the giver until they realize that they actually desire to give.
WHAT HOLDS US BACK FROM BEING GENEROUS?
Rabbi David Jaffe, "N'divut- Generosity: Giving Away, Bringing Close"
Strong relationships cannot rely only on freewill desire to give and connect. Such relationships, while feeling good in the moment, are undependable. I want to know that good friends feel committed to me and that they do not base their involvement in the relationship only on how they feel in the moment. On the other hand, relationships must be more than just obligations. Think of relationships you are in that feel like obligations. You do what is necessary—make the phone call, show up for certain events—but an important life-force is missing from those relationships. Do you want to be treated as an obligation? How does that feel? Ideally, a good relationship is built on both—a sense of obligation that binds you to the other person, and the free will to want to be in the relationship and get closer with each interaction.
Strong relationships cannot rely only on freewill desire to give and connect. Such relationships, while feeling good in the moment, are undependable. I want to know that good friends feel committed to me and that they do not base their involvement in the relationship only on how they feel in the moment. On the other hand, relationships must be more than just obligations. Think of relationships you are in that feel like obligations. You do what is necessary—make the phone call, show up for certain events—but an important life-force is missing from those relationships. Do you want to be treated as an obligation? How does that feel? Ideally, a good relationship is built on both—a sense of obligation that binds you to the other person, and the free will to want to be in the relationship and get closer with each interaction.
Alan Morinis. Everyday Holiness (p. 159)
The Mussar text The Duties of the Heart offers a vivid description of how the narcissistic and selfish yetzer ha’ra makes every effort to discourage a person from giving generously. This donation will put you in grave financial danger, it might say. Or suddenly you will see a vision of yourself living in abject poverty. Or that voice will tell you that any donation is simply beyond your means. Or that the people you might give to don’t deserve it. Or you gave yesterday. Or you need it more than they do. Or . . . The yetzer ha’ra is very clever. It will only spout words and images that have the potential to inhibit your own heart. Why? Ultimately, not to prevent you from giving, but to challenge you to grow beyond the level of generosity where you are today. In this way, the yetzer ha’ra can be a force for the good.
The Mussar text The Duties of the Heart offers a vivid description of how the narcissistic and selfish yetzer ha’ra makes every effort to discourage a person from giving generously. This donation will put you in grave financial danger, it might say. Or suddenly you will see a vision of yourself living in abject poverty. Or that voice will tell you that any donation is simply beyond your means. Or that the people you might give to don’t deserve it. Or you gave yesterday. Or you need it more than they do. Or . . . The yetzer ha’ra is very clever. It will only spout words and images that have the potential to inhibit your own heart. Why? Ultimately, not to prevent you from giving, but to challenge you to grow beyond the level of generosity where you are today. In this way, the yetzer ha’ra can be a force for the good.
(ח) וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃
(8) And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.
Rabbi Susan Leider
There is a place deep inside of us where fear cannot set up headquarters. That place is an open heart. It is where, in the words of Ed Bacon, the Beloved dwells. The beloved is our core of sacredness. The beloved is your imbued dignity. It is seeing the divine in yourself and in others. Your beloved is the ineffable force that compels us to connect, to care about life and the world. When we connect with this deep place inside of us, the walls of fear begin to crumble. The more frequently we access this, by cultivating the habit of generosity, we transform. That’s why the book of Exodus says, “Make me a sanctuary and I will dwell in you.” It means you create a space where the Beloved can be found in your life.
There is a place deep inside of us where fear cannot set up headquarters. That place is an open heart. It is where, in the words of Ed Bacon, the Beloved dwells. The beloved is our core of sacredness. The beloved is your imbued dignity. It is seeing the divine in yourself and in others. Your beloved is the ineffable force that compels us to connect, to care about life and the world. When we connect with this deep place inside of us, the walls of fear begin to crumble. The more frequently we access this, by cultivating the habit of generosity, we transform. That’s why the book of Exodus says, “Make me a sanctuary and I will dwell in you.” It means you create a space where the Beloved can be found in your life.
HOW CAN WE CULTIVATE N'DIVUT?
Alan Morinis. Everyday Holiness (p. 158). Shambhala.
The very act of giving itself ultimately makes us more charitable, merciful, and loving. “Love flows in the direction of giving,” was Rabbi Dessler’s teaching. This may also be what the Talmud means to convey when it teaches, “If you want to bond yourself to loving your friend, give to him for his benefit.” Rabbi Dessler saw the impact that our deeds have on our soul-traits. We don’t have to wait until our hearts are fully open and infused with natural generosity before we begin to give. To the contrary, acts of generosity awaken love and foster the soul-trait of generosity.
The very act of giving itself ultimately makes us more charitable, merciful, and loving. “Love flows in the direction of giving,” was Rabbi Dessler’s teaching. This may also be what the Talmud means to convey when it teaches, “If you want to bond yourself to loving your friend, give to him for his benefit.” Rabbi Dessler saw the impact that our deeds have on our soul-traits. We don’t have to wait until our hearts are fully open and infused with natural generosity before we begin to give. To the contrary, acts of generosity awaken love and foster the soul-trait of generosity.
Orchot Tzaddikim (16C)
“a person who gives a thousand gold pieces to a worthy person is not as generous as one who gives a thousand gold pieces on a thousand different occasions, each in its proper place. For if one gives a thousand pieces at one time, it is because he was suddenly seized with a great impulse to give that afterward departed him.”
“a person who gives a thousand gold pieces to a worthy person is not as generous as one who gives a thousand gold pieces on a thousand different occasions, each in its proper place. For if one gives a thousand pieces at one time, it is because he was suddenly seized with a great impulse to give that afterward departed him.”
Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe
“It is a wonder. If a person thinks great thoughts about generosity, and has many profound new concepts about it, this thinking will not enable him to acquire the attribute of generosity. But if he gives one coin to a thousand poor people, through this he will surely acquire generosity."
“It is a wonder. If a person thinks great thoughts about generosity, and has many profound new concepts about it, this thinking will not enable him to acquire the attribute of generosity. But if he gives one coin to a thousand poor people, through this he will surely acquire generosity."
Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness
One student had an experience around giving something other than money. She and her colleagues at work had been having difficulties, and she wasn’t getting along with one in particular. “Our styles, worldviews, and priorities were quite different,” she noted. With a focus on generosity practice, she said to herself, “Well, perhaps I can come to the relationship with generosity of spirit—which to me means not having always to be right, and to see that I don’t have to change her. I will ask myself to be generous enough to give her way of being in the world space to operate.” She had the opportunity to put that resolution into action the next morning. “I approached her to try to recalibrate our relationship,” she said, “and I did so with the soul-trait of generosity in mind. That intention changed my attitude, and in response, my colleague responded differently to me as well. I believe that entering the conversation with this spirit of generosity made the outcome positive and useful.” Gifts given with the express purpose of thawing a frozen heart will, in time, cause fear to melt away and trust to grow. Each act of generosity works to pry open the heart a little, like clearing a blocked stream one pebble at a time. The flow of spontaneity is then freed to follow. It may seem strange to practice generosity in order to do work on your own heart. That might even seem somehow to undermine the very quality of generosity itself, since the intention also involves a reward to the giver. Therein lies some of the magic of generosity. It rewards all. In Hebrew, the phrase “and they shall give”—v’natnu—is spelled vav-nun-tavnun-vav. That’s a palindrome, a word that is spelled the same way whether you read it left to right or right to left. Such is the flow of generosity.
One student had an experience around giving something other than money. She and her colleagues at work had been having difficulties, and she wasn’t getting along with one in particular. “Our styles, worldviews, and priorities were quite different,” she noted. With a focus on generosity practice, she said to herself, “Well, perhaps I can come to the relationship with generosity of spirit—which to me means not having always to be right, and to see that I don’t have to change her. I will ask myself to be generous enough to give her way of being in the world space to operate.” She had the opportunity to put that resolution into action the next morning. “I approached her to try to recalibrate our relationship,” she said, “and I did so with the soul-trait of generosity in mind. That intention changed my attitude, and in response, my colleague responded differently to me as well. I believe that entering the conversation with this spirit of generosity made the outcome positive and useful.” Gifts given with the express purpose of thawing a frozen heart will, in time, cause fear to melt away and trust to grow. Each act of generosity works to pry open the heart a little, like clearing a blocked stream one pebble at a time. The flow of spontaneity is then freed to follow. It may seem strange to practice generosity in order to do work on your own heart. That might even seem somehow to undermine the very quality of generosity itself, since the intention also involves a reward to the giver. Therein lies some of the magic of generosity. It rewards all. In Hebrew, the phrase “and they shall give”—v’natnu—is spelled vav-nun-tavnun-vav. That’s a palindrome, a word that is spelled the same way whether you read it left to right or right to left. Such is the flow of generosity.