To Give or Not Give: That is the Question. Dennis J. Eisner Each morning while I was a rabbinic student in Los Angeles, I would load up my book bag, get into my car, and head straight for my neighborhood Starbucks. You see, at that time, it was my custom, my ritual, to begin my day with an overpriced, very strong cup of coffee. Oh sure, sometimes I would skip this morning custom, but when I did, it just did not feel right. When I began my day without my coffee it seemed void and unfulfilled. Even though most every morning began the same way, one day in particular has been etched into my memory. On this particular morning, as I approached the parking lot of my favorite establishment, I realized that I did not have any money. I made a short detour to the nearby ATM and received my cash allotment and returned quickly for my daily fix of caffeine. I parked my car and made sure my doors were locked, and as I started for the line of others needing to jump-start their day, I was greeted by a homeless person asking for a handout. He politely asked for .75 cents in order to have enough money to catch a bus and I was caught standing there, flush with a pocket full of twenties. I politely responded, "Sorry I don't have any change." It wasn't as though I had nothing to spare, but for some reason I answered with a respectful yet untrue declaration of my financial state. My retort left me feeling uncomfortable as I recalled a text I had studied early in the week: It is a mitzvah, a religious obligation, to give tzedakah to the poor. Anyone who averts his eyes from a beggar so as not to see him, and does not give him tzedakah, he has transgressed a prohibitive command. (Mishneh Torah, Gifts to the Poor, 7:1) I stopped dead in my tracks, and I turned toward the man and said, "I will catch you on the way out," then I continued toward the front door of the coffee house. I stopped once again and this time I asked, "Are you hungry?" The man quietly, yet firmly responded, "Yes!" So I got my coffee and my scone and bought him a second cup of coffee and second scone. Before leaving the counter I asked the clerk to change two dollars into quarters and I returned with the food and money. I stayed a few minutes just to talk and share my morning ritual with a man whose morning ritual began by asking me for some help. If however, there is a needy person among you, one of your kinsmen in any of your settlements in the land that the Eternal your God is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kinsman. Rather, you must open your hand and lend him sufficient for whatever he needs… 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. (Deuteronomy 15:7-8, 11) My morning ritual still begins with an overpriced, very strong cup of coffee. But now, it also includes a daily act of tzedakah. It may not be the same person, it may not be the same experience, but I keep my eyes open and always strive to meet someone, find out their needs and fulfill the mitzvah of tzedakah. Oh sure, from time to time I have skipped this morning custom but it just does not feel right; my day seems void and unfulfilled. Rabbi Dennis Eisner, the Director of the UAHC Jr. & Sr. High School Program Department, was ordained in May, 1998 from the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in New York. He received his Masters of Art in Jewish Communal Service and Hebrew Letters at HUC- JIR, Los Angeles, as well as a Certificate in Synagogue Management. Rabbi Eisner also serves on the board of KAVOD a Tzedakah Collective.
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