We're talking about tzedakah, often translated as charity, but really meaning righteousness and justice. It’s more than just giving; it's about correcting imbalances in the world. But what happens when we neglect this vital mitzvah, this sacred obligation?
According to Rabbi Simon, in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, in Vayikra Rabbah 34, we can't afford to take lightly the mitzvah of giving to the poor. Why? Because failing to do so, they say, can bring about a staggering twenty-four curses! And conversely, fulfilling it brings twenty-four blessings. Talk about high stakes!
Let's unpack this a bit. The text draws heavily from Psalm 109. It paints a grim picture: "Appoint a wicked one over him…when he is judged, may he be found guilty…may his days be few…may his children be fatherless…may his children wander and beg…may creditors seize all that he has…may there be no one to offer him kindness…may his legacy be cut off…may the iniquity of his fathers be remembered by the Lord…may these be before the Lord continually…he loved curses…may he be clothed in curses." (Psalms 109:6–15, 17–18). A pretty dire list, right? Why such harsh consequences? The psalm tells us plainly: “For he did not remember to practice [kindness]” (Psalms 109:16).
It's a powerful reminder that our actions, or inactions, have ripple effects far beyond what we might immediately perceive. Choosing not to extend a hand to those in need isn't just a neutral act; it creates a void that can be filled with negativity and hardship.
But don't despair! There's also a flip side: the twenty-four blessings! These blessings stem from fulfilling the act of providing for the poor. The text references Isaiah 58:7: “Is it not slicing your bread for the hungry?” The subsequent verses in Isaiah then detail the many rewards that come from supporting those in need.
Here's a fascinating nuance: Rabbi Simon points out that the verse doesn't say "Will you not slice [tifros]," but rather, "slicing [paros]." He interprets this to mean that the bread is already sliced [parus]! What does this mean? The text suggests that on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, our fate, including our earnings and losses, is already decreed. So, giving tzedakah doesn’t actually diminish what you have. It simply directs where that money was already destined to go. If you don't give it willingly, it might just be lost in some other, less desirable way.
Think about that for a moment. It's not just about altruism, although that's certainly part of it. It’s about aligning ourselves with the divine plan, with the natural flow of abundance and compassion. By giving tzedakah, we are essentially participating in a cosmic system of balance.
So, the next time you have the opportunity to give, remember the twenty-four curses and the twenty-four blessings. Remember that your actions have weight, and that even a seemingly small act of kindness can have profound and far-reaching consequences. What kind of world do we want to create? One filled with curses, or one overflowing with blessings? The choice, in many ways, is ours.