By Donald H. Harrison

LA JOLLA, Calif.—There he is, at the bottom of the freeway of-ramp: a homeless man with a cardboard sign, "Hungry, please help."  How you respond to his appeal may be determined by whether you hearken to American notions of individualism or to Jewish concepts of community, according to Rabbi Elliott Dorff, author of  The Way Into Tikkun Olam.

Dorff, rector of the University of Judaism and author of responsa for the Conservative movement on questions of ethics, asked members of his audience at the Lawrence Family Jewish Community Center in the La Jolla section of San Diego, to list possible reasons why people might decline to give any money to that poor person.

Reasons were offered quickly on Tuesday evening, March 28, by attendees of the JCC's "Distinguished Authors" program:  "Giving the homeless man  money would take away his incentive to earn money for himself; you would be an enabler," suggested one person.  The man might misuse the money to buy drugs or alcohol, suggested another.  He might be a "professional panhandler," making a very nice living from begging, a third person said.  You're encouraging others to engage in that kind of behavior, offered a fourth.  There are better ways to help the poor, like giving to organizations with comprehensive programs for their rehabilitation, said a fifth. You may need the money as much or more than he does, suggested a sixth.  Not hearing it from his audience, Dorff recapitulated a seventh argument, which he described as the "Libertarian argument:"— "I earned it.  What right does he have to it?'"

All of these arguments are based in the notion that giving money is a free-will transaction between two individuals, each of whom, in the words of the U.S. Declaration of Independence, is endowed with certain inalienable rights—life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

On the other hand, said the rabbi, Jewish law does not look at the homeless man only as an individual but as an important part of a community. When God gave the Law to the Jewish people at Sinai, He did not give it to individuals, He gave it to the Jewish community. A poor person is part of the Jewish communal body and the health of all parts of that body is interrelated—just as "your heart is affected by something that happens to your hand," Dorff said.

Recognizing our responsibilities as members of a community, Maimonides said (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Gifts to the Poor 9:12), "One who settles in a community for thirty days becomes obligated to contribute to the charity fund together with the other members of the community.  One who settles there for three months becomes obligated to contribute to the soup kitchen.  One who settles there for six months becomes obligated to contribute clothing with which the poor of the community can cover themselves. One who settles there for nine months becomes obligated to contribute to the burial fund for buying the community's poor and providing for all of their needs of burial."

A second  reason for giving to that homeless man is the Jewish concept of compassion, said Dorff.  During our approaching Passover seders, we again will be reminded that we "were strangers in Egypt."  As a way of recalling this, Yemenite Jews have a custom of carrying a little pack over their shoulders while walking around the Passover table.  Jews once were slaves, once were destitute.  Compassion for the homeless man on the street corner should be within our collective memory.  Furthermore, we are enjoined in Deuteronomy 24, "When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not pick it over again; they shall go to the stranger, the fatherless and the widow. Always remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt...."

A third reason?  Because God says so, said Dorff.  In Deuteronomy 15, God commands: "If there is a needy person among you, one of your kinsmen in any of your settlements in the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kinsman. Rather, you must open your hand and lend him sufficient for whatever he needs..."

A fourth reason is that in Jewish tradition whatever you own really belongs to God.  Just as an artist owns the painting that she has made, so too does God own all his creations—including not only man but the property he uses.  Dorff noted that in Leviticus 25 God  instructs people to free their slaves in the Jubilee year, because "they are My servants, whom I freed from the land of Egypt; they may not give themselves over into servitude."

Fifth, Dorff taught, God insists upon the dignity of all men; that is why the Talmud (Bava Kamma 119a) says, "even a poor person who lives entirely on charity must give charity to another poor person."

Sixth, God made a Covenant with the Jewish people—an agreement by which He chose the Jews, and the Jews agreed to live within a special relationship with God.  "Taking care of the poor is an expectation of that Covenant," said Dorff.

Seventh, Jews are instructed to aspire to "holiness," which, according to Dorff, means being "separate and distinct, but nevertheless a model" for others.  Among the requirements for holy conduct are to clothe the naked, visit the sick, bury the dead, and comfort the mourners, said Dorff.

So, Dorff was asked at the end of his lecture, what does he personally do when he sees a homeless person with a sign at the bottom of the ramp?

"I do what the Tradition says," he responded.  "The Tradition says that you have to presume that the person really needs it.  And, at least according to Maimonides, you have to give that person three meals' worth.  In other words, you have to give that person enough so that person can get three meals. You owe that person a day's worth of sustenance, sight unseen.  Exactly how much I give depends upon how long I am at the stop light, and how long it takes me to get my wallet out of my pants—that kind of stuff.  But truthfully, I just routinely give. The one exception is...when I smell alcohol on a person's breath or something of that order, then I usually don't."

He added that he was impressed by an example set by a friend.  "Instead of giving money, he carries around coupons to supermarkets or even to McDonald's—you have to presume that most of the (homeless people) you will see are not Jews, so therefore you don't have to worry about kashrut.  But the point is that you could carry around coupons, script, which I understand that you may not use for alcohol.  Or you could give it to McDonald's where they don't have alcohol, as a way of guaranteeing that it would not be used for alcohol or drugs."