Tithing and the Soul of Money

Parashat Korach opens with a dramatic story of rebellion and dissent, as Korach and his sidekicks Datan and Aviram arise to challenge Moses's leadership in the wilderness. After the Korach rebellion is squelched, order, norms, and ideals must be restored in Israelite society.

One way that this happens, at the end of our parasha, is that a complex system of tithes are invoked. The Hebrew word for tithe, ma'aser, is connected to the word eser meaning ten; in essence, tithing means giving a tenth of one's agricultural produce -- whether the yield of trees, fields, vineyards, cattle or flocks -- to support the priests, the Levites, and/or the poor. Parashat Korach is not the only spot in the Torah where tithes are mentioned, but Numbers 18:21-32, the 7th and final aliyah of this Torah portion, is devoted to the topic in its entirety. Here's an excerpt:

And to the Levites I hereby give all the tithes in Israel as their share in return for the services that they perform, the services of the Tent of Meeting... 

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Levites and say to them: When you receive from the Israelites their tithes, which I have assigned to you as your share, you shall set aside from them one-tenth of the tithe as a gift to the Lord... Say to them further: You and your households may eat it anywhere, for it is your recompense for your services in the Tent of Meeting. You will incur no guilt through it, once you have removed the best part from it; but you must not profane the sacred donations of the Israelites, lest you die.

According to this text, all of the Israelites are to give tithes to the Levites, the Levites are also to set aside tithes from their share, only food from which tithes have been removed are acceptable to eat, and the donations of the Israelites are to be valued and used only for their intended purpose. This already-complex system of tithes is expanded upon in the Talmud and subsequent rabbinic literature, as different types of tithes are broken out for different years in the seven-year giving cycle: ma'aser rishon (first tithe), ma'aser sheni (second tithe), ma'aser oni (the poor man's tithe), and terumat ma'aser (the tithe offering). Together, these mandatory tithes function as a system of taxation for the people of Israel. We can get a taste of what these rules sound like in Maimonides's law code Mishneh Torah, Gifts to the Poor 6:2, where our Torah portion is one of the prooftexts cited:

This is the order of [the separation of] the terumot (donations or offerings) and the maasrot (tithes). After one harvests produce from the earth or fruit from the tree and completes all the necessary work, he separates one fiftieth of the produce. This is called the great terumah and should be given to the priest. Concerning this the Torah states [Deuteronomy 18:4]: "The first of your grain, your wine, and your oil." Afterwards, he separates one tenth from the remainder. This is called the first tithe and must be given to the Levite. Concerning this, the Torah states [Numbers 18:24]: "For the tithes of the children of Israel..." and [ibid.:24] states: "To the descendants of Levi have I given all the tithes within Israel."

According to rabbinic literature, the laws of tithing ever only applied to agricultural produce in the land of Israel, and practices around this system of giving necessarily shifted following the destruction of the Temple. What we are left with today, then, is a vestigial system: loads of verses of Torah, pages of Talmud, and volumes of halakhic/legal texts devoted to an institution of tithing that is mostly not practiced.

Although tithing can no longer be carried out in the way that our parasha describes it, the topic feels relevant to me this week on multiple levels. First, every society must grapple with questions around resource allocation and come up with its own system of taxation and fiscal management that reflects that society's priorities and ideals. Here and now in the United States, the administration's gutting of the IRS staff and the Republicans' current attempt to pass a budget reconciliation bill that cuts critical services, expands funding for ICE, and redistributes wealth upward (among other things) represents a dramatic shift. We -- as citizens and members of the American public -- would do well to pay attention and to protest against fiscal policies and a proposed system of taxation that do not express our core values.

Second, the concept of tithing does remain alive for many Jews today in how it informs the giving of tzedakah. (The laws of tzedakah are, in fact, often "hung" on biblical prooftexts about tithing.) So, for example, today some Jews donate a tenth of their annual income to charity in a nod to the "third tithe" for the poor. In another example, we can see in the text above from our Torah portion that even the Levites had to remove tithes from the tithed produce they received from other Israelites; so too, the laws of tzedakah continue to mandate that even people who are dependent on tzedakah must themselves give tzedakah.

At the intersection of these two topics -- American society's fiscal policy and our Jewish practice of giving tzedakah -- lies the culture of philanthropy in which we find ourselves. In our society and community, voluntary charitable giving benefits a wide range of important social needs, including religion, education, and human services. 

This time of year, this topic of money -- and how we pool and allocate resources collectively in accordance with our values -- feels particularly relevant at Kavana, where our fiscal year runs from July 1st - June 30th. Each spring, we report on our finances to Kavana partners at our Annual Partner Meeting, and the staff and board work collaboratively to develop a Kavana budget for the coming fiscal year in a way that reflects our community's values and priorities.

Some years ago, I encountered a book that had a big impact on how I think about money, tzedakah, and philanthropic giving: The Soul of Money, by Lynne Twist. In a chapter entitled "Money is Like Water," Twist writes: "Money flows through all our lives, sometimes like a rushing river, and sometimes like a trickle. When it is flowing, it can purify, cleanse, create growth, and nourish. But when it is blocked or held too long, it can grow stagnant and toxic to those withholding or hoarding it." She continues, "It doesn't take a family fortune to direct dollars into the world with the power of your commitments and integrity... We can consciously put money in the hands of projects, programs, companies, and vendors we respect and trust... It takes courage to direct the flow, but with each choice, we invest in the world as we envision it."

For the ancient Israelites, tithing was a process designed to support the establishment of an ideal society. Practically speaking, it ensured that while eleven tribes would have land and grow their own produce, the final tribe -- the Levites -- could afford to live a life of service and would still be provided for. Tithing also ensured that the stranger, the widow and the orphan would have enough food to eat (Deut. 26:12-13). 

Today, the allocation of financial resources continues to be a powerful tool we have at our disposal. Particularly at a time like this, when many of us may question our ability to effect change in the face of such sweeping political forces, it is empowering to think that we can make a concrete difference through our giving. Each of us, in our own way and amount, has the ability to have a real impact on the world around us by directing our money "flow" to where it matters most. 

As we read Parashat Korach and as Kavana wraps up our Fiscal Year 2025, this is a perfect week in which to consider what you value and to seek out those organizations that are building towards the vision for the society that you want to see. As we dream -- of community, of peace, of justice, of kindness and compassion, of a world in which everyone has access to education, housing, food -- I hope that all of you realize the important role that Kavana plays, too, in helping to provide connection, meaningful engagement in Jewish life, and a solid grounding in values, Torah and hope.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum