For whatever reason, Parson Brown and I found ourselves downtown at Bella Cucina. It was replaced by the New French Bar a few years later, and the New French Bar now no longer exists. But Bella Cucina existed at the time and we had finished all we could eat before taking the rest in to-go boxes. In one of those moments you so hope to experience, a person approached us on the street to ask for some money for food. The good Parson offered his food, at which point the recipient thanked him, took the food, and asked me for money. It goes to show that giving is almost never as simple as we would like for it to be.
Most modern spiritual traditions try to help us out in this department, but the ancient Jews were somewhat revolutionary in suggesting that religion should be concerned with the most needy in society. (Most competing religions at the time were more concerned about why the haves should remain the haves.) The Buddha and perhaps Confucius brought the moral and ethical importance of philanthropy to the fore in the East, but its presence in the west is a tribute to the influence on Judaism on the religions and secular traditions that have followed. It’s all of our job to work for the repair of the world — Tikkun Olam — through the practice of good deeds — tzedakah.
But how, if tzedakah takes the form of making gifts, does one practice appropriately? The medieval theologian, philosopher, and physician Maimonides (who served as personal doctor to the Muslim ruler Saladin) describes eight levels:
He doesn’t say anything specific about giving away the turkey you got for free by shopping at OtIngles, but I think it would fall under the category of giving publicly to an unknown recipient, assuming you give the turkey to a food bank.
Maimondes is buried in Tiberius, on the shores of the sea of Galilee. We will be there in little more than a week’s time. For some reason, as we get ready for the trip to Israel, the time we are planning for the area around Galilee is the time I am looking forward to the most. There is no good explanation for this other than that I like hills and water and smaller cities. Tel Aviv sounds exciting and modern. Jerusalem seems almost incomprehensible. But a lake, where people did and do simply fish and do carpentry and walk the shores and hills is the type of place I can easily embrace.