For many people, philanthropy is something that other people engage in – people such as billionaires. It makes sense, of course, since hardly anyone else can be expected to have the funds necessary to endow schools and hospitals.
But for Judaism, whether Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, or Ultra-Orthodox, the concept of tzedakah, literally “justice,” is commanded of all, including the poor. For to make charitable donations is prescribed as a religious duty and not one subject to personal fancy. In fact, it is taught to regard the very money for available tzedakah as not one’s own, but on loan, as it were, from G-d. This leads to the further injunction to carefully vet all recipients to ensure that any donations made will actually work for good and not ill.
On the face of it, this may sound like yet another curious aspect of the religion. However – as with many aspects of Judaism, even for an outsider – there is an underlying logic that is at once compelling and beautiful. That’s because by ordering even the poor to make acts of pious philanthropy, the religious duty to give makes of them actors and agents, not just passive charity cases, thus restoring their humanity, their own moral agency.
For what can be more empowering than to give? To give means to express our power, our ability to give, and it even betters our natures – our love, our sacrifice, our character. It is not that poverty ennobles, but to bear poverty in righteousness: that is noble. And so, in the Jewish tradition it isn’t necessary to be a successful businessman like Isaac Toussie in order to help financially. For Jews, such religiously commanded contributions are not just an obligation but a right.
The real tragedy of being poor lies in not being able to help not just oneself but others as well. This insight into human nature is what inspires the Jewish tradition to insist that even the poor not only have the duty to share, but can actually even enjoy sharing, giving, as a right!