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August 29, 2008

Aim for tzedakah or tzedek?

MIRA SUCHAROV

I recently attended a talk on the topic of tzedakah (charity). When asked whether the Judaic obligation to give to those less fortunate extends to non-Jewish causes, the speaker revealed that there is a prescribed hierarchy of potential charity recipients, according to the level of relatedness, proximity of residence, etc., and that non-Jews rank low on this talmudic-inspired list. But part of the beauty of Jewish tradition, as least as I see it, is the practice of interpretation, such that no single thinker can claim a monopoly of truth.

What, indeed, is our ethical role as individuals – and as members of the Jewish community – with regard to our tzedakah efforts (the term comes from the Hebrew tzedek, meaning justice) and our general benevolence to non-Jews?

Perhaps the root of the problem is in what it means to be part of a community. What I have realized is that these perspectives clash on a basic question: Is spirituality fundamentally about tribal identity or about global interconnectedness?

Certainly, tribal identity – the inclination to protect "one's own" first and foremost – would have appeared essential to new immigrants fleeing anti-Semitism from Europe, as my grandparents did when they arrived in Winnipeg from Russia 80 years ago, with those they left behind perishing in the Holocaust decades later. I am perhaps among the first generation of Canadian Jews who did not worry that a non-Jewish schoolmate would think unkindly of me because of my religion. Maybe for this reason, as a preteen I was able to read Fran Arrick's Chernowitz (the 1983 novel about anti-Semitic harassment plaguing a ninth-grader) with the detached fascination of an anthropologist.

All this has meant that, aside from small pockets of ultra-religious Jews who have sought out a more culturally and religiously homogeneous life for their family, all of my contemporaries have developed intimate relationships – to say nothing of close professional connections – with Jews and non-Jews alike. So when I think about whatever spiritual life it is that I harbor internally, I keep returning to the idea that there seems to be little ethical meaning in adhering to Judaic precepts that do not see the Jewish community as fundamentally and intrinsically embedded within broader geographical and identity spheres.

This is a theme that globally minded Jewish activists have long cultivated. As Ruth Messinger, president of the American Jewish World Service, has written, engaging in social action beyond one's immediate community should not be thought of in the strategic, good-for-my-group terms of the notion of "goodwill," but in recognition that it brings more peace to the world – so said Maimonides, she argued. This runs counter to the aforementioned speaker on tzedekah, who said that, if asked by the fire department, for example, for a donation, he'll typically give a minimal amount – say five dollars – in order to receive a sticker to place on his window, thereby ensuring that passersby look kindly on Jews: he referred to this practice as instilling goodwill.

None of this is to say that advertising one's charitable acts is futile. When my family decided to switch to "green" Bullfrog power last year, our registration packet arrived with a colorful assortment of lawn signs, fridge magnets and mailbox stickers that any preschooler would covet. Dog-walking neighbors with whom we had never had a chance to chat began stopping to ask about the company and how they, too, could convert their homes to clean energy. In our own tiny way, we had managed to embed our mezuzah-clad house within our broader communities, from the formerly church-owned land of our brick-house Ottawa neighborhood, up and into the zone of climate change.

But such public proclamations need to be motivated by a sense that "we are all in this together," otherwise, such actions risk promoting a message of communal hubris rather than collective destiny. The fundamental question, therefore, might be better posed, how much tzedek still needs to be enacted in our struggling world, rather than whom, by virtue of their religion, is more deserving of justice and repair.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University.

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