Rabbi Charles P. Sherman
Grant Plost Bar Mitzvah
August 25, 2001
Tzadik, Tzedakah, and Tzedek
A perceptive writer once observed: "Since the days of Moses, justice speaks with a Hebrew accent." Preoccupation with justice has been the Jew's magnificent obsession. This is the first Sabbath in Elul. Every year, at the beginning of this preparatory month before the Days of Awe, we read the Torah portion which contains this thunderous summons: "Justice, justice shall you pursue that you may live." (Deut. 16:10) One of the most significant verses in all of our Scripture begins with three words - tzedek, tzedek tirdof. Tzedek can be translated as "justice" or "righteousness", so Deuteronomy 16:20 can be translated - "Justice, justice shall you pursue" or "righteousness, pursue righteousness that you may live."
It is a noble idea, who would argue with it? In fact, it seems almost unnecessary to state it. Of course people should be fair; simple morality dictates that we should try to act justly. Yet even if we accept the concept of justice as important enough to be explicitly stated, how many times does it need to be stated? Three other verses which occur prior to this week's passage propose that we should be fair and just. In Exodus 23:(3, 6) we read: "You shall not show deference to a poor man in his dispute . . . You shall not subvert the judgement of the poor in their cause."
Then, in Leviticus 19:15, we're taught: "You shall not render an unfair decision: do not favor the poor or show deference to the rich. . ."
Finally, in Deuteronomy 1:17: "You shall not be partial in judgement, hear out the small as well as the great." So the pursuit of justice certainly was not a new idea by the time the verse in this week's sedra was voiced.
Now many of you know that the rabbis believed that there is no superfluous language in the Torah. So our verse for this week must mean something beyond simply being just, because we have already been taught that lesson. Furthermore, there is very forceful language here. Our verse doesn't simply say "justice is important", "justice would be nice"; it says "pursue justice."
"Pursue" is a verb which requires passionate participation. If we are in pursuit of justice, then we must be active agents in bringing about justice, righteousness. We can't just sit back and wait for justice to happen or merely assume or applaud that justice is being done. The voice of our text implores us to get involved and work to better the world around us.
And conversely, in the face of injustice, we cannot remain neutral or indifferent. Failure to act when injustice is being perpetrated makes us an accomplice. There are no "innocent" bystanders. Judaism does not teach us to turn the other cheek to the aggressor lest we thereby encourage aggression and reward injustice. Injustice is to be resolutely resisted with every means at our disposal. When we fail to stand up to unjustice, we fail in our obligation to pursue justice.
Furthermore, we have a strange repetition of a word. You see tzedek, tzedek, tirdof. Why is the word for justice or righteousness written twice? Again, there is supposed to be nothing superfluous - not even a letter or a vowel - which is unnecessary in the Torah. And yet here we have the same entire word repeated. Obviously there must be more than appears on the surface, so I suggest this morning that we carefully look at the three root letters of this word "tzedek" - tsadi, daled, koof. You know that Hebrew is a consonantal language - it is the letters that count, not the vowels. And it is a three-letter root language, so these three letters are the core of the word. I believe that three very important words which we should know are derived from this core.
The first term, tzadik, is an ancient concept. A person who acts fairly, shows kindness and understanding and works to protect the rights of all people is called a righteous soul, a tzadik. A true tzadik is authentic and sincere; he cares about the world at large, not just because it is a Commandment to do so, but because he believes with certainty that it is right. Abraham, our progenitor, was known as a tzadik. He argued with God to save the inhabitants of Sodom for the sake of the few righteous people.
We are told that there was once an old man who set out to plant an olive sapling in his yard. While he was outside digging, a young traveler approached him and asked why he felt it was necessary to plant a new tree at his age. "Surely you know that you will be dead long before this tree ever produces fruit," the young man observed.
To this the old man could only answer: "When I arrived on this earth, there were numerous fruit trees from which I could eat. I had no part in planting them, but someone before me had left them as a gift. It seems only right, therefore, that I should take care of those people who will come after me."
The tzadik knows and understands the old man planting in his yard because he strives to be the same kind of person, one who seeks out - pursues - deeds that are in and of themselves righteous.
Central to becoming a tzadik is seeing and understanding that there are deeds to be done, duties to perform, Commandments to follow, people to help. This knowledge gives the tzadik a sense of purpose in life and we get a glimpse of this purpose when we study our second word - tzadakah. Hopefully, this is a word familiar to most of us here. The most common translation of this word is "charity", which provides only a very cursory understanding of what tzadakah really means. Tzedakah is a responsibility, a duty, an obligation to help people - especially the poor, the orphaned, the widowed, the aged, the lonely, the uneducated, the physically and emotionally challenged.
According to the great Jewish philosopher Moses Maimonides, there are eight different levels of tzedakah. He listed these levels in his Code of Law, the Mishnah Torah, and explains that each successive level is superior to the ones below it. The most basic level is simply the act of giving, regardless of the reason. We are commanded to give to and support the needy. Even if our only reason for doing so is the commandment itself, we should fulfill that mitzvah. The tangible product - be it food or clothes or money - is what is necessary: the reason we give it is inconsequential.
In contrast, the highest level of giving is to help someone become self-sufficient. This is not what we typically consider to be charity, but it is definitely tzadakah. An old adage teaches: "If you give a man a fish, he eats for a day; but if you teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime." We could add that this man who was once starving is now able to reach out to others and help them as well. This simple saying is a great example of the difference between the lowest and the highest form of tzadakah. What could be more righteous than helping people to take care of themselves? The goal is to put someone in a position where he or she will be able to do tzadakah for someone else.
Ultimately we should be striving for the third word - tzedek, justice or righteousness. To be a pursuer of justice is more than simply being just in our own lives. I believe that all of us are basically good-hearted and want to help others. Our Torah portion, however, teaches us that the ultimate goal is to be a righteous person who inspires righteousness in others.
It is no secret that Jerry Lewis is a champion for muscular dystrophy. He works all year, donating a considerable amount of his time and energy, to that telethon. In doing so, he inspires others to also donate their time. Every performer on that telethon is a volunteer. Every person who answers the telephone is a volunteer. Everyone involved is giving freely of their time. Moreover, every volunteer who is inspired to help out inspires others to pick up the phone and donate to the cause. A week from Monday, Labor Day, those volunteers will raise more than 50 million dollars toward helping those afflicted with this terrible disease and financing the research necessary to eventually eradicate it.
Most of us are pretty good at giving. It is easy to put a coin in the pushka now and then without even giving it much thought. Whether it be at Sunday School, Midrasha, or anywhere else, giving is really not that hard. It is more difficult to help solicit money. I am just as uncomfortable as the next person when it comes to asking, and I don't enjoy being interrupted at dinner by the unknown solicitor calling for a donation. But our society depends upon good people who are willing to ask others to help.
Let me add that being a tzadik and striving for tzedek doesn't have to be centered around giving or soliciting money. We all have gifts and talents which we could and should share with others. The trick is to incorporate these gifts into our tzadakah. For example, people who are good at it and enjoy working with their hands could volunteer for Habitat for Humanity. Those who like to teach may tutor needy children at Marshall School or somewhere else so that they are less likely to drop out of school. We need more tutors in our own Midrasha program, Jews willing to give one hour for a dozen Wednesday evenings or so to work with a small group of highly motivated students.
Using what we are good at in connection with tzadakah makes it even easier to give. Our tzedakah becomes a present given from the heart instead of an obligation one has to perform. It is then that we become examples to others. When we act in righteous ways, when we are visibly doing and living righteous lives, we make it easier for others to do the same. We become an inspiration to others. This inspiration and the acts it begets lead us to our ultimate goal - tikkun olam, the repairing of this world.
Tikkun olam stems from the idea that each of us is personally responsible for mending, healing, and improving the world. Within this concept lies the belief that God purposely left the world unfinished. Thankfully, God gave us the gifts we need to complete it. Were this easy to do, however, the world would already be perfect, and we'd be sitting on some beach sipping mai tais. But we are not pre-programmed to fix our broken world. We are free to decide whether or not we'll try to bring about positive change. When we pursue justice, when we pursue righteousness, we are working toward tikkun olam; we're choosing to be involved in making positive changes around us.
As we begin to prepare for a New Year, may each of us discover the qualities of the tzadik which reside within us. May we strive to make gifts of the tzedakah we give to the needy around us. And may each of us consciously pursue tzedek in our lives. Thus will every one of us contribute our resources, example and inspiration to tikkun olam, the repair of this world. Kayn y'hi ratzon, may this be God's will and ours. Amen
I am grateful to Rabbis Sidney Greenberg and, especially, Todd Thalblum for inspiring and informing this message.
