Small tidbits and Sparks of wisdom

TZEDAKAH AND GEMILUTH CHASADIM,
ALMS AND CHARITY
צדקה וגמילות חסדים
If there be among you a poor man of one of thy brethren, within any of thy gates, in thy land which the Lord thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor shut thy hand from thy poor brother: but thou shalt surely open thy hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient for his need in that which he wanteth.
Beware that there be not a base thought in thy heart, saying: “The seventh year, the year of release, is at hand”; and thine eye be evil against thy poor brother, and thou givest him nought; and he cry unto the Lord against thee, and it be a sin unto thee.
Thou shalt surely give him, and thy heart shall not be grieved when thou givest unto him; because that for this thing the Lord thy God will bless thee in all thy work, and in all that thou puttest thy hand unto.
For the poor shall never cease out of the land; therefore I command thee, saying: “Thou shalt surely open thy hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy in thy land.”
DEUT. XV, 7–11
“Thou shalt open thy hand unto thy brother, to thy needy”; with these words God calls you to your loveliest, holiest, most God-like task, calls upon you to become a blessing with all He gives you, a blessing to those around you. Look around you in the great house of your Father: all are called to share this blessing. Everything sustains and is sustained, everything takes and gives and receives a thousandfold in giving—for it receives life instead of mere existence. And do you alone wish only to take and not to give? And shall the great flow of blessing cease with you? Would you be as a stream which dries up in the arid sand and fails to give back to the sea that which it has received?
Once you have pondered upon the thought—that you are nothing so long as you exist only for yourself, that you only become something when you mean something to others—that you have nothing so long as you have it only for yourself, that you only possess something when you share it with others—that even the penny in your pocket is not yours but only becomes so when you spend it for a blessed purpose; and when you have experienced the supreme happiness of giving, the bliss of the knowledge that you have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, comforted the sick, cheered the unhappy, provided for the needy, then will you rejoice in the great task to which God has called you—to be a blessing with all that you possess; then will you willingly give all to purchase a moment of such knowledge.
But as soon as you perceive that what you are doing is only your duty, your vocation, your task as a human being and as a Jew, you will struggle against this feeling of bliss in order to remain a pure servant of God in your good work, to think of nothing else, and to act with no other purpose than to fulfil the will of your Father in heaven, and to give light and warmth and nourishment and comfort just as a ray of sunlight gives light in the service of God.
Why should God give you more than you need unless He intended to make you the administrator of this blessing for the benefit of others, the treasurer of His treasures? Every penny you can spare is not yours, but should become a tool for bringing blessings to others—and would you close your hand on something that is not yours?
That is why our Sages prefer to give the beautiful name of tzedakah (צדקה) to this act of charity by means of material goods. For tzedakah is the justice which gives to every creature that which God allots to it; and if tzedakah, as practised by God, means His tender justice which metes out to each human being not what he deserves but what he is capable of bearing, then for the human being it is that tender justice, God’s love, and not another man’s right against you, which entitles him to his claim on you.
A poor man comes to you, and in him God sends you His child that you shall clothe and feed, look after and care for, and that it shall bring you greater blessings than you give. But when pity, or rather the voice of duty, opens your hand to give or to lend, do not let the cold, unreasonable voice of what you believe is clever calculation close it once more in the act of charity, while you ponder whether you will ever get back your loan, or reflect that the gift will make you poorer.
For is what you hold then really yours? Has not God, then, a right to your all? And when He makes demands on you for His child, will you lock up, will you close, your hand? The poor man is not forsaken; God is his Protector; but yours is the sin before the Father, that you did not help the child with the Father’s riches, and claimed as ‘Mine!’ that which is God’s and which He has promised not to you alone but also to all in need.
The law says that tzedakah is a high duty, and the repudiation of this duty can bring heavy consequences, even death. Nobody becomes poor through tzedakah, and God has proclaimed, ‘Never will tzedakah become the cause of any grave suffering or misfortune.’ To him who has compassion for the poor, the Lord also will show compassion. As you wish God to hearken to your prayers, so shall you hearken to the prayers of the poor. Give, and neither to your children nor to your grandchildren, not even to your remoter descendants, will help be wanting.

Everyone is liable to the duty of tzedakah. Even the poor man who lives on tzedakah shall give tzedakah from what he can spare from his allowance. The child who eats at his father’s table and the servant who eats at the table of his master may give a morsel of bread to the poor without question; for it is tacitly permitted.
Do you wish genuinely to fulfil the duty of tzedakah? Then let it be the best of your possessions that you sacrifice, the best food to the hungry, the best raiment to the naked; for it is a sacrifice laid upon God’s altar—let it be a worthy sacrifice (Y.D. 248).
When you can, give according to the need of the poor; if your means do not allow it, give at least one-tenth, at most one-fifth, of your wealth as tzedakah. Do this the first year that you acquire wealth; thenceforward give one-tenth or one-fifth of your yearly income; no one shall give more than one-fifth, so that he himself shall not become needful of help.

*(This limitation applies only to one who actively goes out seeking the poor in order to give. In such a case, we are concerned about excessive zeal and therefore set a boundary.
However, if a person remains at home or in his office and is not actively pursuing opportunities to give, there is no concern that he will give excessively. In that situation, he may give more than one-fifth, because the fear of reckless generosity does not exist. The concern of his becoming impoverished does not apply, since he is not driven by zealous pursuit but gives deliberately and with calculation.)

The tenth that has been put aside shall, for preference, be for the benefit of the poor, but it may also be employed for other sacred purposes which, without this money, you could not have aspired to; for instance, to buy books for your own as well as others’ study of the Torah, which otherwise you would not have been able to afford, but then they will not be your exclusive property which you may sell again or otherwise dispose of. You must not, however, repay out of this tenth any services which have been rendered you.
That which you give, give with a friendly mien, with a good and cheerful heart, with feeling and with kindly, consoling words. If you give in a surly manner, then is your face taking back what your hand has given. If you cannot accede to the requests of the needy, do not turn him angrily away, give him encouragement, show him your goodwill and that it grieves you not to be able to help him. Never turn a poor man empty away, even if it be only a scrap of bread that you give him.
If you can persuade others to do good, then you have the double reward of charity and the encouragement of charitable living.
Summary — The Hard Truth About Tzedakah
Rabbi Hirsch dismantles the modern lie that tzedakah exists for the poor. It does not. The poor survive with or without you. Tzedakah exists for the wealthy, so that wealth does not rot the soul, provoke judgment, or turn blessing into accusation.
Wealth is never ownership; it is trusteeship. The giver is not generous—he is compliant. Refusing to give is not stinginess; it is theft from God. The poor man has no claim against you, but God does.
Tzedakah is called justice, not kindness, because money beyond need was never yours to begin with. You are merely the treasurer of divine assets, and every coin withheld is a breach of duty. That is why the Torah warns of punishment, even death—not as threat, but as consequence. Hoarded blessing curdles into liability.
Giving purifies wealth. It prevents the giver from imagining himself self-made, insulated, or independent. It disciplines desire, humbles success, and aligns material life with divine purpose. The joy of giving is incidental; duty comes first. One gives not to feel good, but to remain human—and Jewish.

Summary — The Hard Truth About Tzedakah
Rabbi Hirsch dismantles the modern lie that tzedakah exists for the poor. It does not. The poor survive with or without you. Tzedakah exists for the wealthy, so that wealth does not rot the soul, provoke judgment, or turn blessing into accusation.
Wealth is never ownership; it is trusteeship. The giver is not generous—he is compliant. Refusing to give is not stinginess; it is theft from God. The poor man has no claim against you, but God does.
Tzedakah is called justice, not kindness, because money beyond need was never yours to begin with. You are merely the treasurer of divine assets, and every coin withheld is a breach of duty. That is why the Torah warns of punishment, even death—not as threat, but as consequence. Hoarded blessing curdles into liability.
Giving purifies wealth. It prevents the giver from imagining himself self-made, insulated, or independent. It disciplines desire, humbles success, and aligns material life with divine purpose. The joy of giving is incidental; duty comes first. One gives not to feel good, but to remain human—and Jewish.

The Stalker and the Secret of Charity
Charity is not mercy. It is surveillance.
The wealthy man is not a benefactor; he is a stalker—placed behind blessing, following it closely, watching where it must go. Wealth runs ahead; the man follows. He does not lead. He does not decide. He tracks.
The poor are not the point. They are the signal.
Money is released into the world to test whether the holder understands his position. If he imagines ownership, he fails. If he hesitates, calculates, delays, or moralizes, he exposes himself. The stalker who loses sight of his target is no longer useful.
Tzedakah is not generosity; it is alignment. The giver is required to move when wealth moves. Not emotionally. Not heroically. Mechanically. Faithfully. As a shadow follows a body.
Refusal to give is not cruelty to the poor; it is rebellion against assignment. The punishment is not imposed—it is automatic. Blessing that is blocked turns hostile. Retained wealth does not stay neutral; it indicts.
The stalker does not ask whether the prey “deserves” pursuit. He does not stop to admire himself. He does not confuse vigilance with kindness. He knows the rules: stay close, stay quiet, stay obedient.
That is the purpose of charity.
Not to fix the poor.
To keep the wealthy from losing the plot.