Erev Yom Kippur: The Highest Form of Giving
Sermon by Rabbi Sim Glaser
2013/5774
Tomorrow morning whether you are upstairs or downstairs you will hear a section of the Torah that comes from the book of Deuteronomy, the fifth book of the Torah – a book that acts as a virtual blueprint for a successful society.
The great Moses teaches the Israelites how they can remain prosperous and successful in their new land. Moses keeps repeating this theme of the equality of each and every individual that will come to live there. According to our Torah everybody has to get a fair shake. Atem nitzavim culchem lifney Adonai Eloheichem – you stand here, all of you today – my law affects everyone, from the woodchopper to the water drawer. In a society where God’s laws reign, justice reigns, and everybody deserves a chance. No exceptions.
There is a tale told of a time not long before the Holocaust and the Second World War, when the Jews of Eastern Europe still lived in small villages. One day, a young man told his fellows that he was leaving the village because he realized he was an atheist, he no longer believed in God. He decided he wanted to live among other atheists like himself. The townspeople were sorry to see him go, but they bid him farewell and told him his home would always be there waiting for him. A few years went by and lo and behold the townspeople were surprised to see that their friend had returned to them. The villagers asked him: “Why did you come back? Do you now believe in God?” To which he responded: “No, I still don’t believe in God, but I have learned something very important. It is better to live among those who believe in God than among those who don’t believe in God.”
That young man had lived in both societies and had seen the way they treat their most desperate citizens, the poorest and neediest amongst them. He decided it is better to be in a place where God’s rules are the way of the land.
Even way back then, Moses somehow knew that human societies, even at the peak of their social advancement, would always have poor people to take care of. Or, as Moses put it more concisely in the Torah: “poor folk will never cease to be in your land.” And further, Moses added: “you shall give, but your heart should not grieve when you give.”
With that last bit there, Moses was saying that not all giving is alike, and it should not be surprising that future generations of great Jewish thinkers would have a lot to say about the art of giving.
Perhaps the most well known treatise on giving is the ladder of tzedaka – the creation of another great Moshe, Moshe ben Maimon, or Maimonides. He constructed an eight-step ladder of giving and taught us that the person who gives, but gives grudgingly inhabits the lowest rung on that ladder. This goes all the way up to completely anonymous giving where neither giver nor receiver knows of each other’s identities.
But the eighth or highest form of giving on the ladder of tzedaka is something different altogether. This is when you either loan somebody something or enter into an actual partnership with the needy person or find him work. The classic: give a man a fish, he eats for a day, teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime.
It is also interesting to not that the ancient Moses told the Israelites that the poor of your city should be helped before those of another city.” He was saying: Begin the work in your own backyard. Deal with the poverty and the injustice that is right there in your midst.
Temple Israel was built on this location with that kind of vision for its place in this community. Rather than having an ark that faces east toward Jerusalem which traditionally represented the dream of every diaspora Jew to arrive and pray there in that holy place, our original Emerson street doors open to the east as a welcoming gesture to all our sisters and brothers in the city.
Did you know that for three years in a row Minneapolis-St. Paul has been named the fittest metropolitan area in the U.S. The criteria for fitness included exercise, obesity and smoking rates; access to health care; and the availability of recreational facilities, farmers markets and walking trails. We scored big. And I’m guessing that the person doing the research did not make it to the state fair.
The Wall Street journal did an expose of Minneapolis this last July describing our fair city as studded with lakes, ponds and parks and enough culture to fill a long weekend of activities. Daring architecture, a vital art scene. What also has been mentioned recently about our neck of the woods is that in the decades to come, partially due to climate shifting, this may well be the optimal place to live in the entire US.
Even as there are plenty of reasons to rejoice in living here in the Twin Cities, there is trouble in paradise. The numbers of homeless people in our region is at an all time high. Our metro area has a greater discrepancy between the haves and the have-nots than almost any other city in the country. There is less affordable housing in the Twin Cities than almost any other metropolitan area in the US. Yes, our city is a sweet place to live, but not if you are struggling to pay the rent, or have to decide between paying your mortgage and buying food.
Temple Israel is one of 14 religious institutions that make up the Downtown Congregations to End Homelessness. A week from this Sunday, on September 22nd from 2 to 5pm, we are hosting, right here at temple, during Sukkot, an afternoon of education and action. The program is called Unite To End Homelessness and will begin with an interfaith service, with members of our local Muslim and Christian communities, a panel discussion on the state of homelessness in our community, stories by formerly homeless residents, and then an action fair will follow where we can let our voices be heard and find out what we can do to make a difference. I hope that many of you will find the time to come and celebrate Sukkot by remembering that there are literally hundreds of people in our community who face a winter ahead without a roof over their heads. Not even as fragile a booth as a Sukkah.
Having a home to live in is not a luxury. It is a right. A basic necessity without which one cannot function in a community. Yes, we are blessed to live in a beautiful city rich with natural wonders, trails, fresh water, art, music, restaurants and a host of other blessings. But our community is only as healthy as its poorest citizens.
We might ask ourselves, “What would Moses do?” We don’t have direct evidence of Moses dolling out funds or assistance to the poor. As a matter of fact you’d be hard pressed to find anywhere in the Torah where it specifically says you should give handouts to people. But we do see Moses acting in accordance with Maimonides’ highest form of tzedaka. Moses is preparing the people for a successful future by teaching them to be self-sufficient in a land of challenge. And when strangers come join their community, to welcome them in warmly and give them also a chance to succeed.
If I am for myself alone, said Rabbi Hillel, who am I?
Tonight we might feel very good about that, because so much of our giving at Temple falls on that eighth and highest rung of Maimonides’ ladder. Our volunteerism at Jefferson School over the years. Our involvement in Families Moving Forward and our shelter here in our classrooms. Our newly formed Temple Israel Committee to End Homelessness partners us with 13 other congregations, and most importantly partners us with those who have no place to call home.
Our position as an urban reform Jewish institution has always been that we are not here for ourselves alone, but that we are here to bless the community around us and help repair its damage.
There are many interesting Talmudic debates about the correct number of sounds to be blown from the shofar, what the shape of the shofar should be, whether it should be curved or straight, and whether the shofar should be made of a ram's horn or of an antelope's horn. But in the village of Chelm, the debate was about the proper side through which the shofar should be blown, whether from the narrow side or from the wide side. This seemingly trivial question was brought by two Chelmites before the rabbi of Chelm for resolution. The Rabbi immediately saw that beneath the apparently minor dispute lay an important issue of Jewish identity and character. And so the rabbi said; "Through what end you blow the shofar depends upon to what end you blow the shofar.” If you are blowing it just because tradition tells you to blow it, it doesn’t matter which end you use. But if you want to wake up a sleeping society to do right by its people, all its people, then you will want to make a big sound.