Voices of Our Clergy

Following the passing of my rabbinic and life role model 18 years ago, I uncovered something extraordinary about my father — a revelation many of you may have experienced discovering unknown facets of your own loved ones’ lives. 

I found a receipt from over 50 years ago in my dad’s private files for a multiyear $500 charitable contribution he had made in the late 1960s when I was a child in Massachusetts. This stunned me. My parents grappled with multiple loans and a meager income, yet they still quietly made significant donations to worthy causes.

It is no secret there is no necessary correlation between wealth and generosity. It is far easier nowadays to find a wealthy individual than it is to find an exceedingly generous person who adheres to Judaism’s principle of tithing, giving away 10% of all financial gains to others. 

By this biblical measure, a financially strapped household with three kids earning $80,000 that donates $6,000 annually to charity is more generous, proportionately, than another household earning $1,000,000 that donates $70,000 dollars.

My philanthropic heroes, whether congregants on fixed incomes or billionaires like Warren Buffett, embody a rare attribute. Sacrificial giving means contributing beyond one’s self, not merely after one’s self-pursuits or leisure.

America became a much wealthier nation in the post-World War II era, but sadly, the proportion of income Americans who donate to charities has not increased. Rising incomes, assets and inheritances have led more people in higher brackets to make charitable gifts. However, average donations as a fraction of available funds tend to plateau at around 2% or 3% of one’s annual income.

Two admirable religious groups who do practice sacrificial giving are Latter Day Saints (Mormons) and certain Black church denominations.

The practice of tithing among Black churches and LDS members helps explain why Salt Lake City and Memphis frequently contend for the title of “most charitable city per capita” in the U.S.

Impressively, Memphians donate an average of 5% of adjusted gross income per household annually. In stark contrast, more affluent cities and urban areas, such as San Francisco and Boston, exhibit low generosity, hovering around just 2%.

My religious inspiration for giving extends beyond my own family history to the history of Temple Israel, Tennessee’s largest and oldest synagogue, founded in 1854. That was also the year when Judah Touro, among the most generous citizens of nineteenth-century America, died. 

Touro was a self-made man who rose from poverty. He anonymously bought buildings for churches, synagogues, hospitals, and cemeteries. While most of his philanthropy benefited New Orleans where Touro lived much of his life, he left bequests to cities across America, including a crucial sum to help build Temple Israel on Second Street in Downtown Memphis. Touro’s charitable contributions became publicly known only after his death, achieving the highest levels of tzedakah (righteous giving) in Jewish tradition.

When New Orleans leaders sought to erect a statue in homage to Judah Touro, recognizing his contributions to a New Orleans hospital, churches, and Touro Synagogue (currently led by Memphis’s former Temple Israel Rabbi Katie Bauman), his family declined the honor.

Next month, Jewish people worldwide will enter the High Holy Days season: three weeks dedicated to introspection, reflection and redirection. The threefold Jewish formula for self-improvement repeated in our prayer book is simple: prayer, repentance (making amends and meaning it) and tzedakah (righteous giving that goes beyond mere charity). 

These three ingredients — prayer, repentance and tzedakah — also have the power to transform communities and the world beyond oneself. 

Philanthropic role models across religious lines in Memphis have taught me giving has everything to do with a generous and selfless spirit regardless of one’s means. With each passing year, I continue to learn about tzedakah heroes, extraordinarily giving souls, whether Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or atheist.

The rabbis of the Talmud declared that, “righteous giving (tzedakah) is as important as all the other commandments in the Bible combined.” Perhaps this is because of the immediate impact exceptional generosity makes in people’s lives and in communities like ours. 

Seeing my father’s papers reminded me of the kind of person he was and the beliefs and values he held close even before I found a receipt with a dollar amount demonstrating tzedakah. We all have the opportunity to think about the people who influence us with lived-out values. Whether or not you celebrate the Jewish High Holy Days, perhaps you can take some time to reflect on how you can grow in ways that will make you more like the people you admire. When we all do this, the receipts will not only show in our own lives but all beyond us in the community around us.

May we truly uphold and extend Memphis’s reputation and distinction for being not just a charitable city but an exceptionally generous one.