Most charity comes with a choice. We choose the person, the cause, the institution, the story that moves us. But the Torah also teaches a kind of giving where we are asked to step back—and let go of control.
How to Give Charity
One of the highest forms of charity in Jewish tradition is called matan b’seiser—giving anonymously.
The Rambam famously lists eight levels of charity. The highest level, he writes, is not simply giving someone money. It is helping a person become self-sufficient—finding them a job, giving them a loan, entering into a partnership with them, or otherwise helping them stand on their own feet, “so that he will not need to rely on others” (Rambam, Hilchos Matanos La’aniyim 10:7).
In modern language, it is the old saying: Give a person a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.
The next level is when the giver does not know who receives the money, and the person receiving does not know who gave it. The level after that is when the giver knows who is receiving the help, but the recipient does not know who gave it. The Rambam adds that this is a particularly proper way to give (Rambam, Hilchos Matanos La’aniyim 10:8–9).
But in this week’s Torah portion, Emor, we find another powerful model of charity.
The first part of the portion speaks about the priests, including the special laws of the High Priest. The second part goes through the Jewish calendar and the offerings that were brought in the Temple on Shabbat and the holidays. The Torah begins with Shabbat, then Passover, the counting of the Omer, Shavuot, and later continues with Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot.
But right in the middle—between Shavuot and Rosh Hashanah—the Torah suddenly inserts a verse that seems completely out of place:
“When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not completely cut the corner of your field, and the fallen stalks of your harvest you shall not gather; you shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger. I am Hashem your G-d” (Vayikra 23:22).
The Torah is saying that when a farmer harvests his field, he may not cut everything. He has to leave a corner of the field for the poor. This is the mitzvah of pe’ah. And if stalks fall from his hands while he is harvesting, he may not go back and collect them. Those stalks are left for the poor as well. This is the mitzvah of leket.
Rashi asks the obvious question: Why does the Torah place these laws right in the middle of the holiday section? Why interrupt the discussion of Passover, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot with laws about helping the poor?
Rashi quotes Rabbi Avdimi bar Rabbi Yosef, who explains that the Torah placed these mitzvos here to teach us something: Whoever properly leaves leket, shikchah, and pe’ah for the poor is considered as though he built the Temple and brought his offerings there (Rashi, Vayikra 23:22).
But this raises a question.
Why did the Torah choose these particular mitzvos as the example? There are other places where the Torah speaks very directly about giving charity. In Parshas Re’eh, the Torah says, “You shall surely give to him,” and, “You shall surely open your hand to your brother, to your poor, and to your needy in your land” (Devarim 15:10–11).
So why here, in the middle of the holidays, does the Torah specifically mention leket, shikchah, and pe’ah—especially since these laws were already taught earlier in Parshas Kedoshim (Vayikra 19:9–10)?
Giving Without Choosing
The Rebbe explains that there is something very unusual about these particular forms of charity.
In general, charity is different from taxes. When a person pays taxes, he has no real choice in where the money goes. But charity is personal. The giver gets to choose whom to help and which causes to support.
Jewish tradition recognizes that a person’s money and property belong to him. Yes, he has a responsibility to give. But he also has the right to decide where his giving should go. He can choose which priest receives the special gifts given to the priests. He can choose which Levite receives the tithe from his produce. He can choose which poor person receives his charity. In simple language: a person has the right to decide which people, families, and institutions he wants to support.
But every rule has an exception.
And the exception is the mitzvah mentioned in our portion: leket, shikchah, and pe’ah.
Here, the Torah does not say, “You shall surely give,” or “You shall open your hand.” Instead, the Torah says, “You shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger” (Vayikra 23:22).
That word—“leave”—is the key.
Rashi explains: Leave it in front of them, and let them gather it themselves. You may not help one poor person over another (Rashi, Vayikra 23:22).
With this kind of charity, the owner does not get to choose the recipient. He cannot decide, “I want this poor man to receive it,” or “I prefer that family.” He must leave the produce in the field, and whoever comes first may take it. He is not even allowed to help one of them collect it.
Giving Without Judging
Why does the Torah take away that benefit from the giver? Why not let him choose whom he wants to help?
There is a well-known story about Rabbi Zusha of Anipoli, who was a close friend of the Alter Rebbe, the founder of Chabad. They both studied under the Maggid of Mezritch. The Tanya, the foundational book of Chabad thought, was written by the Alter Rebbe, and one of the two approbations printed in the Tanya was written by Rabbi Zusha. That gives us a sense of how close they were (see Reshimos Hayoman, p. 358).
The story is told of a wealthy Jew who would quietly support Rabbi Zusha. He also received Rabbi Zusha’s blessings, and his business did very well.
One time, the man came to Anipoli and discovered that Rabbi Zusha was not in town.
“Where is the rabbi?” he asked.
“He went to visit his Rebbe,” people told him.
The wealthy man was surprised. “My rabbi has a rabbi?”
Being a sharp businessman, he made a quick calculation. “If Rabbi Zusha’s blessings have helped me so much, then surely his Rebbe’s blessings must be even more powerful. Why support the student when I can support the teacher?”
So that is what he did. He stopped supporting Rabbi Zusha and began sending his donations to Rabbi DovBer, the Maggid of Mezritch, Rabbi Zusha’s own Rebbe.
Not long afterward, his business began to decline.
When he realized what had happened, he hurried back to Anipoli and poured out his heart to Rabbi Zusha. “I understand that I lost my success because I stopped supporting you,” he said. “But was my logic really wrong?”
“Your logic was perfectly reasonable,” Rabbi Zusha answered. “But it came from the wrong place. Until now, you gave charity without calculations—without weighing what you would gain from it. So Heaven also treated you without calculation, and you were blessed generously. But once you began making calculations, Heaven began making calculations too. And according to those calculations, you may not be entitled to such extraordinary wealth.”
That is the deeper idea behind leket, shikchah, and pe’ah.
With these mitzvahs, the farmer has to overcome his natural instinct to manage the outcome. He leaves the produce for whoever comes. Even if the person who comes is not the kind of person he would have chosen. Even if he worries that the person may misuse it. Maybe someone struggling with alcohol will spend it on liquor. Maybe someone with an addiction will use it in a harmful way. The owner of the field may not want to support that kind of person at all.
But the Torah says: Usually, when you give charity, you have the right to decide where your money goes. You can choose the person, the cause, or the institution you want to support.
But sometimes, you have to give without checking. Without controlling. Without judging whether the person is “worthy” enough to receive your help.
And when a person gives that way—without making calculations about the recipient—then, measure for measure, G-d responds to us the same way: not with strict calculations, but with an open, generous, overflowing hand (based on Likutei Sichos, Vol. 17, Emor III; Sichos Kodesh 5738, Vol. 2, p. 262ff.).
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