For this year’s print Charitable Giving section (available in our print edition!), we asked to hear from community members about their approach toward tzedakah: their general philosophy of giving, how they balance secular and Jewish donations, what inspires them to open their wallets or how the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas massacre in Israel changed their giving.
Here are some of the responses we received:
Tzedakah reminds us our lives aren’t about our achievements
Charity has always been my favorite mitzvah.
Most of what we do in Jewish life is about developing the self: shaping character, deepening the spirit, disciplining the heart. Prayer refines the soul. Study expands the mind. Shabbat restores our sense of peace.
But charity — tzedakah — is different. It is not about self-development; it is about self-transcendence. It turns us outward, reminding us that life is not about what we achieve but what we share.
And charity doesn’t just change the person you help. It transforms you, too.
Because money is not just money. It’s hours of your life turned into numbers. It’s your effort, your education, your courage to show up every morning, your patience when things went wrong. It’s your energy, your late nights, your dreams.
So when you give charity, you’re not giving away a bill or a coin. You’re offering a piece of your life. You’re saying to God: Take everything I’ve built, every ounce of who I am, and let it serve something bigger than me.
That is why our tradition considers tzedakah one of the greatest of all mitzvot. It sanctifies not only what we give but the very life that earned it.
Perhaps no one expressed this more beautifully than Sir Moses Montefiore, one of the great Jewish philanthropists of nineteenth-century England.
On Montefiore’s 99th birthday, The Times of London published a glowing tribute to his success. He built hospitals, fed the hungry, rescued the oppressed.
Soon after, a friend asked, “Sir Moses, what are you worth?”
He paused, gave a figure. The man was surprised. “Surely you’re worth far more than that!”
Montefiore smiled. “You asked what I’m worth, not what I own. So I calculated what I’ve given away this year. Because we are worth what we are willing to share with others.”
The balance sheet of a life isn’t measured in dollars. It’s measured in hearts lifted. Tears dried. Hope restored.
We make a living by what we earn. But we make a life by what we give.
Rabbi Dov Greenberg
Stanford Chabad executive director
J. Torah columnist
After Oct. 7, I decided to donate almost solely to Jewish nonprofits
Before Oct. 7, 2023, I would say that about two-thirds of my charitable giving went to Jewish causes. After that, almost 100% has, and this has remained true two years later. As one example, my alma mater is being investigated for what appear to be credible allegations of tolerating antisemitism, so my donations to that institution have ceased.
My own bottom line is quite simple: There are many other people who can support environmental and other causes to which I have routinely donated. But with few exceptions, nobody is going to support the Jewish community organizations except the Jewish community. Nobody except us is going to donate to the campaigns run by the Jewish Federation and others to help assist people on the ground in Israel. And we also need to keep in mind that the security needs for all Jewish institutions have increased over the past several years.
And while political donations aren’t the same (especially to the IRS) as charitable giving, I also make sure that when I’m donating to a candidate, that money goes, whenever possible, through a Jewish community fundraising organization. The candidate will still receive the same amount of money, but when you go on a candidate’s website to donate, there’s no reason for the candidate to attribute that donation to his or her position on issues that are important to us. When the donation comes as part of a large bundled donation through a Jewish PAC (whether it’s AIPAC, Democratic Majority for Israel, the Republican Jewish Coalition PAC, or a local Jewish community PAC for local races), the candidate knows that this is support from the organized Jewish community.
Mike Harris | Bodega Bay
StandWithUs regional advisory board chair
My spouse’s experiences broadened my views on giving
As a kid, I didn’t know much about charity beyond the blue-and-white rectangular boxes that my father kept at the cash register in his retail store in Berkeley. The boxes jiggled heavily, satisfyingly, as loose change piled up inside to help make the faraway land of Israel green with trees. Charity was a matter of sound: UNICEF boxes at Halloween, followed by bell-ringers and swinging red-metal buckets for Salvation Army.
It is my husband, Mark Moss, who broadened my perspective on giving. Having grown up poor in the Detroit area, he remained grateful to the local Jewish Federation for having helped his family purchase a home in the then-new Jewish suburb of Oak Park, where Mark attended excellent public schools. Later, he received a Hebrew Free Loan that enabled him to go to college. He understands firsthand the importance of Jewish philanthropy, and has always felt a profound urge to give back.
As a young couple, Mark and I contributed our synagogue dues and made small annual donations to the Jewish Federation in San Francisco. Over the years, our involvement grew, and we had some good fortune. The donor-advised fund (DAF) that we were ultimately able to set up with Federation has enabled us to support many Jewish causes, as well as secular ones such as our local food bank. Mark has also put in countless hours, over many years, doing board work for East Bay Jewish organizations.
Meanwhile, I co-founded the national nonprofit Bruchim, which champions full inclusion for Jews who choose not to circumcise. We honor their decisions, provide resources for meaningful Jewish birth ceremonies and create pathways for them and their families to participate fully in Jewish life. I’m deeply grateful that because of Mark’s vision and commitment, our DAF can support Bruchim alongside numerous other nonprofits.
Lisa Braver Moss | Piedmont
Bruchim president and co-founder
Every Hanukkah, we loop our kids into our annual giving decisions
Growing up, I learned an important principle: There are countless Jewish causes worthy of support, and since non-Jewish donors rarely prioritize these organizations, we have a responsibility to sustain our own community. This doesn’t mean choosing between Jewish values and the causes that matter most to us. In fact, the Jewish philanthropic landscape is remarkably diverse — encompassing animal welfare, environmental protection, reproductive rights and countless other critical issues. By giving through Jewish organizations, we can simultaneously support our Jewish values and advance the causes that align with our moral compass.
About 10 years ago, my wife Sonia Daccarett and I decided to transform tzedakah from a concept into a practice our children could own. Each year around Hanukkah, we hold a family meeting where our kids research, present and advocate for causes they care about. They must do their homework: understand the organization’s mission, ensure it aligns with our family’s values, and ideally find a Jewish organizational umbrella through which to direct the gift.
These presentations have become spirited family discussions. Our children defend their choices, field questions and learn to articulate why their causes matter most. We parents present our own selections as well. Together, we debate, prioritize and make collective decisions about where our tzedakah will go that year.
This process teaches our children how to evaluate charities critically, connect their values to action and understand that giving requires thought, conviction and sometimes compromise. More importantly, it transmits the value of tzedakah itself: the obligation and the privilege of giving back.
We also make donations throughout the year — supporting friends’ charity events or responding to urgent community needs.
What began as a Hanukkah tradition has become one of our family’s most meaningful rituals — an opportunity to do good while instilling values that will guide our children throughout their lives.
Alex Bernstein | San Francisco
J. Board Member