by Rabbinic Intern Shira Stutman

In our home, as, perhaps, in some of yours, we have more than a few Tzedakah boxes (also known as pushkes). When Russ and I first married, we took pains to fill them, regularly, but for the last few years, they have sat, virtually untouched, in a cabinet. One day, a few weeks ago, my son Caleb noticed the boxes, and demanded to see them.

Caleb took a liking to one of the Tzedakah boxes, and figured out how to open it, pour out the change, close it, and drop the change back in. This he did many times, over many days, each time asking another question. “What is the box?” he would ask. “Why do we use it? Why do we give Tzedakah? Why do people need it? Can we go give the monies [sic.] to the poor people now? Why not now? Now!”

Why not now? This final question continues to stick in my head. My three-year-old’s sense of immediacy is compelling. If we don’t move fast, we will miss our Tzedakah opportunity, miss the chance to do what is required of us. For, although Tzedakah is often mistranslated as “charity,” as something we do out of the goodness of our hearts, it is in fact something very different. The Hebrew root of the word Tzedakah is tzedek, meaning righteousness, or justice. When we give Tzedakah, we are not doing something generous or big-hearted; we are only doing what is just, what is commanded of us.

It was Judaism that introduced the concept of the tithe, the set amount that one is required to give, from one’s income, to Tzedakah. (The tithe as Jews picture it is for Tzedakah to any organization or person in need, not just to a place of worship.) In the Shulchan Aruch, the medieval Jewish law code on which the majority of Jewish law is based today, we read that, as for “the amount to give: If you can afford it, give as much as the poor people need. If you can't afford to do this, then giving up to one fifth (20%) of one's assets is the choicest fulfillment of the mitzvah; one tenth (10%) is an average amount. Any less than that is stinginess/poor eyesight. A person should not distribute more than one-fifth of his property to Tzedakah, lest he come to be dependent himself.…”

According to this text and others, the average amount that we are supposed to give is a full ten percent of our income. (Before or after taxes? That’s a different discussion.) If we follow this tradition, we are commanded not to think of this ten percent as actually belonging to us. We have stewardship over its distribution as Tzedakah, yes, but it belongs, by rights, to the needy. When we give less than a tithe of our income, we are, in fact, stealing from the poor.  

Today, there are any number of Tzedakahs that need our support. For instance, the American Jewish World Service has been doing tremendously important work, in the areas of both Tsunami relief and providing sustenance for those suffering in Sudan and throughout Africa . Closer to home, our own Congregation Kol Ami could use some support. As the only Reconstructionist congregation in Boca Raton , Kol Ami runs the gamut of our Jewish civilization’s needs: prayer services, language lessons, social gatherings, cultural events—you name it, you’ll find it under Kol Ami’s roof.

I know that it is not always easy to find the money for Tzedakah; nowadays, with gas prices fluctuating, with family needs growing, and with health problems throwing curveballs from left and right, we might need to keep a closer watch over our income than we would like. Still, if we were to view our Tzedakah work as incumbent upon us, and not as a sign of our good-heartedness, perhaps we would be able to give a few more dollars.

After all, in the words of two wise beings (Rabbi Hillel and Caleb Stutman-Shaw): If not now, when?