If Jews do not support our own community, our communal institutions will not have the support they need to continue.
By MICHAEL STAENBERGContract drivers paid by Amazon collect bags of free groceries to deliver from the Bread for the City social services charity during the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) outbreak, in Washington(photo credit: JONATHAN ERNST / REUTERS)
Growing up in Omaha, Big Red football was important. My family was shomer Shabbat (Sabbath observers), so I didn’t listen to games on Saturdays, but I did read the recaps in the Sunday paper. When I was 10, I saw a beautiful red leather coat and I wanted it more than anything. Unfortunately, it cost $10, and I did not have that kind of money in 1964.Instead, my father offered me 25¢ an hour to clean the basements of his buildings. The work wasn’t easy, but I knew that after 40 hours of manual labor, the coat would be mine. When I clocked my 40th hour, it was a Friday afternoon in the fall, not long before Shabbat.My dad sat me down and pulled out ten $1 bills. When he started dividing them into three piles, my heart sank. Two dollars went to tzedaka (charity).“We’re not a 10% family; we’re a 20% family,” he told me. Three dollars represented my contribution to my room and board. Only $5 remained for me.Bitterly disappointed, I dove sobbing under my bed. And then my dad told me something that would change my life.“You have two choices right now: You can quit, or you can work another 40 hours.”I chose to work, and a month later, I got my coat. That lesson has stuck with me ever since. When life knocks you down, you can give up, or you can choose to work harder. I have always chosen to get that coat. And I always give tzedaka.The main reason I give is to charity is selfish: It makes me feel good. But the reason I give to Jewish causes is less so. If Jews do not support our own community, our communal institutions will not have the support they need to continue. Others will join us in supporting food pantries, but who else will support Jewish day schools, summer camps, and federations?That is why I signed the Jewish Future Pledge, a worldwide movement calling on all Jews to pledge that half of the charitable giving in their estate plan will support the Jewish people and/or Israel.Encouraging support of any Jewish or Israel-related cause is also key here, because there’s no “magic bullet” that will connect people to Jewish life. It’s not just the synagogues or the Jewish community centers, Birthright, BBYO or Jewish summer camp. Everyone engages differently, and we need all these institutions and organizations, along with robust programming, so that we can reach as many young Jews as possible.I know first-hand what an uphill battle it can be to engage the next generation. When I turned 13 and had my bar mitzvah, I informed the rabbi of my synagogue that I wasn’t coming back. I simply wasn’t interested. The rabbi turned ghostly white at the podium, but he didn’t respond.Six months later, my dad died. For 365 days, morning and evening, I made sure to show up at synagogue to say kaddish, the mourner’s prayer, for him. The rabbi told me, “You thought you weren’t coming back, but God has different things in mind for you. You can practice Judaism any way you want, but He’s teaching you that this is something important.”It is up to the older generation to ensure that Jewish organizations continue to offer a point of connection, and to educate the younger generation about why this is important. My wife and I have made a concerted effort to instill in our three daughters a commitment to supporting the Jewish community. When they were younger, I gave them each money to give away to Jewish causes. I also taught them the importance of getting involved.Today, my daughters contribute to a Jewish newspaper and help Jewish teenagers. Jewish Future Pledge sends young people the same message about our communal values and our commitment to Jewish giving.I’m sharing my perspective with all of you because I’ve learned that speaking up is what creates change.The first time I was going to make a sizable donation to a Jewish cause, many decades ago, I was going to do so anonymously. One of my mentors told me not to. He taught me that by taking accountability for your giving, you encourage others to give as well, because when they see your name, they want to be like you. Whether you give a dime, a dollar, 100 dollars or a million dollars, people want to know that you are participating.To me, signing the Jewish Future Pledge is a symbol, just like the leather coat that now hangs in my office. It’s a symbol of what I value, a reminder to myself, a declaration to my children, and a broadcast to anyone else who sees my name. Though the going is tough for the Jewish people and for the world at large, we can still get that coat. Together, we can keep the Jewish future going, and we can – and must – speak up publicly about our values, and teach our children to do the same.The author is founder and president of The Staenberg Group and is a leader, visionary and philanthropist.
Related TagstzedakaCharityphilanthropy
if(catID != 151){
var cont = `Take Israel home with the new Jerusalem Post Store
