Why give?

If we look in the Torah at verses that describe our obligations to give or loan to others, it is common for them to conclude with “I am your G-d”. For example:

וְכַרְמְךָ לֹא תְעוֹלֵל, וּפֶרֶט כַּרְמְךָ לֹא תְלַקֵּט; לֶעָנִי וְלַגֵּר תַּעֲזֹב אֹתָם; אֲנִי ה אֱ-לֹהֵיכֶם.

Do not totally glean your vineyard, and the fallen [fruit] from your vineyard do not gather up, they should be left for the poor and the stranger, I am Hashem your G-d. (19:10)

Similarly the pasuq whose conclusion Rabbi Aqiva considers the Torah’s most fundamental rule

לֹא תִקֹּם וְלֹא תִטֹּר אֶת בְּנֵי עַמֶּךָ, וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ, אֲנִי ה

Do not take revenge and to not bear a grudge to the people of your nation, and you shall love your friend as yourself, I am Hashem. (v. 18)

and

מִפְּנֵי שֵׂיבָה תָּקוּם, וְהָדַרְתָּ פְּנֵי זָקֵן; וְיָרֵאתָ מֵּאֱ-לֹהֶיךָ, אֲנִי ה.

Rise before the elderly and honor the face of an old man, and you shall feel awe/fear from your G-d, I am Hashem. (v. 32)

and

כְּאֶזְרָח מִכֶּם יִהְיֶה לָכֶם הַגֵּר הַגָּר אִתְּכֶם וְאָהַבְתָּ לוֹ כָּמוֹךָ, כִּי גֵרִים הֱיִיתֶם בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם: אֲנִי, ה אֱ-לֹהֵיכֶם.

Like a native from among you shall be the stranger who lives among you and you shall love him like yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt; I am Hashem your G-d. (v. 34)

and

וְלֹא תוֹנוּ אִישׁ אֶת-עֲמִיתוֹ, וְיָרֵאתָ מֵאֱ-לֹהֶיךָ:  כִּי אֲנִי ה, אֱ-לֹהֵיכֶם

Do not cheat one another, and you should have awe/fear of your G-d, for I am Hashem your G-d. (25:17)

A naive read might be that we are being asked to give to others specifically because Hashem is commanding us to. However, the primary value, Rabbi Aqiva tells us, is “ve’havta lerei’akha kamokha – loving our neighbor as yourself.” And the Alter of Slabodka taught from this pasuq that just as we love ourselves naturally, not because it’s a mitzvah, so to our love and its expression to others should not be from an attitude of “because G-d said so”. As I wrote in the past, Rav Wolbe [Alei Shur vol II pg 152] quotes the Alter of Slabodka’s treatment of this question:

“Ve’ahavta lereiakha komakha — and you shall love your peers like yourself.” That you should love your peer the way you love yourself. You do not love yourself because it is a mitzvah, rather, a plain love. And that is how you should love your peer.

To which Rav Wolbe notes, “This approach is entirely alien to frumkeit.” The frum person is the one who makes sure to have Shabbos guests each week, but whose guests end up feeling much like his tefillin — an object with which he did a mitzvah. A person acting out of frumkeit doesn’t love to love, he loves in order to be a holier person. And ironically, he thereby fails — because he never develops that Image of the Holy One he was created to become. The person who acts from self-interest, even from the interest of ascending closer to G-d, will not reach Him.

The first word in the commandment to loan to another Jew in need without interest is picked up by numerous commentators:

אִם כֶּסֶף תַּלְוֶה אֶת עַמִּי, אֶת הֶעָנִי עִמָּךְ, לֹא תִהְיֶה לוֹ כְּנֹשֶׁה, לֹא תְשִׂימוּן עָלָיו נֶשֶׁךְ.

If you lend money with My nation, with the poor who are with you, do not act like a creditor to him, do not place interest upon him. (Shemos 22:24)

Why the “im — if”? We know from Devarim 15:8 that lending is obligatory, so why is it phrased as though it’s conditional. Rashi, following the Mekhilta, simply says that “im” here means “when”, not “if”. The Ibn Ezra says that lending is conditional, because only few people can afford to perform this mitzvah.

But the Maharal takes an approach which is likely one of the Alter’s sources. In Gur Aryeh, his commentary on the Rashi ad loc, he writes:

For if a person would fulfill these dictates because he is obligated to fulfill the decrees of the King, this would not be the desire of God, for God wants man to fulfill the commandment out of his own desire to do so …

Indeed, if a person would do these three acts out of a sense of being commanded to do so by the King, unwillingly, this would not be something of which God could be proud….

If someone would loan money because he is commanded to do so, it would not be a mitzva, as the mitzva of providing loans must be performed out of the desire of a good heart, as it is written (Devarim 15:10), “and let your heart not feel bad.”

Further, the terms used for others in these mitzvos emphasize our unity. Throughout Vayiqra 25, the recipient is “akhikha – your brother”.

כִּי-יָמוּךְ אָחִיךָ, וּמָכַר מֵאֲחֻזָּתוֹ

If your brother declines in wealth and sold some of his property … (v. 25)

The pasuq that describes the specific mitzvah of tzedaqah:

וְכִי-יָמוּךְ אָחִיךָ, וּמָטָה יָדוֹ עִמָּךְ

If your brother declines in wealth and his means [lit: hand] fail with you … (v. 35).

And:

And if your brother who dwells with you grows poor and is sold … (v. 39)

And if a sojourner or stranger grows wealthy with you and your brother who dwells with him grows poor and sells himself to the stranger … (v. 47)

So then how to we understand our initiial observation, the frequenecy with which Hashem concludes these mitzvos with the words “I am Hashem”?

Rav Shim’on Shkop, in his introduction to Shaarei Yosher, explains the mitzvah of tzedaqah as follows (available in full here, and these sections with more of my commentary here and here):

Similarly it is appropriate to think about all the gifts of heaven “from the dew of the heavens and the fat of the land” (Bereishis 27:38) that they are given to the Jewish people as a whole. Their allotment to individuals is only in their role as caretakers until they divide it to those who need it, to each according to what is worthy for him, and to take for himself what is worthy for himself.
וכן ראוי להתבונן על כל מתנות שמים מטל שמים ומשמני הארץ שהם נתונים לכלל ישראל כולו, והתחלקותם להיחידים הוא רק בתור גזברות, על מנת שיחלקם לנצרכים, לכל אחד כחלק הראוי לו, וליטול לעצמו כפי חלקו הראוי לו.
With this idea one can understand how charity has the effect of enriching the one who performs it, as the sages say on the verse “‘aseir ta’aseir – you shall surely tithe’ – tithe, so that you shall become rich – shetis’asheir” . Someone who is appointed over a small part of the national treasury who does a good job guarding at his appointment as appropriate will be next appointed to oversee a sum greater than that, if he is not promoted in some other way. If they find a flaw in his guard duty, no fine qualities to be found in him will help, and they will demote him to a smaller task. Similarly in the treasuries of heaven which are given to man. If he tithes appropriately, he satisfies his job of disbursement as he is supposed to conduct himself according to the Torah, giving to each as is appropriate according to the teachings of the Torah, then he will become wealthy and be appointed to disburse a greater treasure. And so on, upward and upward so that he can fulfill his lofty desire to do good for the masses through his stewardship of the treasury. In this way a man of reliable spirit does the will of his Maker.
ועל פי דעה זו יובן סגולת הצדקה שמעשרת את בעליה, כמו שדרשו חז״ל על הכתוב “‘עשר תעשר’ – עשר בשביל שתתעשר” (תענית דף ט.), שכמו שהממונה על אוצרות הממשלה באוצר קטן, אם ישמור תפקידו כראוי אז יתמנה להיות גזבר על אוצר גדול מזה, אף אם לא יצטיין במעלות אחרות, ולהיפך, אם יתגלה חסרון במשמרתו, לא יועילו לו כל מעלות שימצאו בו, ויורידוהו למשרה קטנה מזה, כל כך באוצרות שמים הנתנים לאדם, אם מעשר כראוי ממלא תפקיד הגזברות שלו כראוי ליטול לעצמו כפי דרכי התורה, ומחלק למי שראוי כל כך על פי הוראת התורה, אז יתעשר ויתמנה לגזברות על אוצר גדול מזה וכן הלאה למעלה למעלה, למען יתקיים רצון העליון בהטבת הכלל על ידי שמירת האוצר, ובזה איש נאמן רוח עושה רצון קונו יתברך.

We can pick out two aspects to the motivation Rav Shimon for tzedaqah. First, all wealth is from Hashem, and therefore we should be disbursing it according to His Will. Which means sharing with those who don’t have. This is what Hashem reminds us by reiterating that He is our G-d.

Second, all of us are parts of a whole. There is an inherent calling to share with ones bretheren. As the Rambam often phrases a duty between two people in his Seifer haMitzvos, “one part should do for another part”. A person is happiest when his right hand shares with the left. Similarly, the Jewish People, or humanity as a whole.

So the “ani Hashem” is not “because I, the Creator, commanded it”. Rather, “because I, Hashem, provide for all, and unify all under a common mission. And therefore what I give you is part of My giving your brother as well. And your sharing with him is part of what I give to you.”

4 thoughts on “Why give?

  1. Wonderful, and thank you.

    1. In the first paragraph, when Reb Shimon says that what we have is as stewards, I found it misleading, especially in light of the next excerpt. We have to give maasar, or chomesh. The rest is ours, not as stewards, but ours, to buy Maseratis and alpine granite kitchen counters for our butlers to use.

    2. I don’t understand how you’re explaining ani hashem. If the idea is to love each other out of empathy, because our love for the other is greater than our love for ourselves, which I can understand, how do you see that in ani hashem?

    • Starting with #2, since that clarifies what I would say for #1.

      According to R’ Shimon, aniyei irekha qodmin, R’ Aqiva’s ruling that one doesn’t save another at the expense of onself, etc… self-interest necessary and desired facets of creation. The key to chesed is not loving the other more than ourselves, but loving the other because we realize he is an extension of ourselves. The way we love our children. This is the more famous part of the introduction in question, his take on “Im ein ani li, mi li? Ukeshe’ani le’atzmi, mah ani?” (See the link in the blog post to the intro with my translation for both his discussion of the value of self-interest and for the notion of chessed as extending my “I”.) Just as it’s easiest to do chessed for my children and spouse, then my friends, etc… So too the more I feel connected to my community, the Jewish People, humanity, all of creation, the easier it is to do chessed.

      But it’s a radiation outward. G-d actually wants us to put our own first.

      Hashem gives us things in order to provide to that whole. Again, Knowing which part of that whole He is providing to. Hashem wants to sustain the Jewish People, and therefore what he gives you is for the nation. But He did so in a way that the part of the nation that is most impacted is you and yours for a reason.

      My take on “ani Hashem” was:
      1- It’s from Me for you-as-part-of-the-greater-whole (Im ein ani li) not for you as a disconnected individual (ukeshe’ani le’atzmi)
      2- It is our shared Parent that makes the Jewish People connected as siblings.
      3- Our common Ultimate Purpose unites us as well, and is what that money is for.

      Now, back to #1: Yes, the stewardship thing is overstated, the mashal can’t be taken too far. But given the context, the reader isn’t likely to.

      You asked good but fundamental questions about my blog post. If you can suggest emendations that would make my point clearer, I would appreciate it.

      • Thank you for the explanation. I wish there were something more pure than loving others because they are extensions of our selves, (though I’m perfectly happy to be the object of such love, especially from the Ribono shel Olam,) and less utilitarian than united for a common purpose (though a common purpose that transcends personal desires is great; unfortunately, I can’t grasp it. Oblivion for an ideal is good for other people, but seems excessive for one’s self.)

        • I don’t know if it is an impurity. Some would define love itself as a feeling of connectedness.

          I hear you liking the idea of bitul of the self more than the idea of extending the self. I recommend the essay itself. He argued that it’s beyond human capability, selflessness ends up denying our G-dly urge to be creative, and there is halachic evidence against it as a Torah’s ideal. But R’ Shimon’s is not the only derekh. Bitul is central to many forms of chasidus.

And your thoughts...?