CCAR RESPONSA
5769.3
Tzedakah, Recession, and Social Policy
She’elah
The CCAR Committee on Justice and Peace has submitted to us the following three inquiries.
Question 1. Does a severe recession affect our approach to public tax policy and our commitment to social services? Some argue that in a recessionary period we need to both cut taxes and services in order to balance the budget, which will affect programs that address poverty and homelessness. Others advocate greater spending and a renewed commitment to the poor, who bear the greatest burden during a recession. How does our legal tradition balance these conflicting influences?
Question 2. How does a congregation balance its budgetary needs with the economic challenges its members now face? Specifically, is fund raising acceptable as people are losing their jobs and homes? And must members be held to their financial commitments and/or pledges made before the recession, as their own financial status changes? And finally, how must a congregation balance its programmatic needs against its obligations to its staff during a recession? Specifically, if choices must be made, must it look to preserve employment of its custodial and secretarial staff first, understanding that they will have the hardest time coping financially before preserving programmatic initiatives?
Question 3. With regard to individual obligations: May one say “no” to tzedakah during a recession?
Teshuvah
We write this teshuvah in the spring of 2009, a time of great economic turmoil throughout the world. Many individuals have either lost their jobs or live in immediate fear of losing their jobs. Others have been forced to accept reductions in salary, wages, and benefits. Many who have struggled to save for their retirement or for the education of their children have watched those savings melt away in the present collapse of the financial markets. The resulting anxiety is felt in every one of the levels mentioned in these three inquiries: in the arena of government policy; in the sphere of synagogue and other Jewish institutional activity; and in the lives of individual members of our community. It is difficult, at this moment, to imagine a more pressing and challenging reality than the economic crisis we currently face, the deepest such crisis, we are told, since the Great Depression of the 1930s.
In submitting these questions to us, the CCAR Committee on Justice and Peace asks for our help in framing a text-based response to this challenge. What manner of guidance does Torah, as expressed through our sacred texts and the tradition of their interpretation, offer to our communities as they struggle through these troubled times? At the outset, we should note the very real limitations upon our ability to arrive at such a response. While we hold our our Jewish tradition to be a torat chayim, a “living Torah” that speaks to the circumstances of contemporary life, we know that it may not offer clear and certain answers to the financial difficulties we face. We search our classical sources in vain for detailed responses to the mortgage foreclosure crisis, the freezing of the credit markets, the need to stimulate the domestic and international economies, and the appeals for emergency financial support (or bail-outs) for industries, banks, and nations burdened with foreign debt. This is the case, first of all, because our texts were written long ago, reflecting an economic and commercial context quite different from the one that prevails today. More importantly, though, our tradition has historically recognized that decisions touching upon social and economic policy are not to be made by rabbis and scholars of texts and their interpretation. These matters are instead the preserve of the community itself, the lay political structure acting through the agency of its leaders and on the basis of practical wisdom. At the same time, it is not the case that Torah has nothing to say. Our tradition is hardly neutral as to the general direction of the policies adopted by communal institutions. On the contrary: the rabbis have insisted that those decisions not transgress against fundamental Jewish moral values. Thus, while acknowledging that the political leadership must wield wide discretionary authority in doing its job, rabbis have long served as a kind of “collective conscience” for the community, acting as a check-and-balance against arbitrary political decisions that would lead to unjust results.[1]
The Responsa Committee sees its role in this light. We wish to know the basic values and general directions – as opposed to any specific policies[2] – that our tradition would require of our communities. In seeking these answers, we will study the Judaic concept – the better word is mitzvah – of tzedakah. It is under this rubric that our textual tradition works out its understandings of how we are to respond to the issues of poverty and economic deprivation in our community, issues that lie at the heart of the questions that we have been asked. Tzedakah, to be sure, is a religious obligation and as such is not the same thing as “policy.” Yet precisely for this reason, because it speaks of fundamental religious and moral values, the idea of tzedakah can serve as one of those “checks-and-balances” upon a discourse driven entirely or primarily by economic thought and concern for practical political efficiency. Framed in this way, a discussion of tzedakah can help focus our attention upon the values that should influence our policy decisions, the direction in which those decisions ought to take us.
In this light, let us consider some aspects of the mitzvah of tzedakah that may be of special relevance to our questions. In doing so, we shall try to derive some general guidance as to the best answers to them.
1. Tzedakah is a Mitzvah. As we have indicated, Jewish tradition defines tzedakah as a mitzvah, a religious duty. As the Shulchan Arukh, the most authoritative compilation of the traditional halakhah, formulates the rule: “Every person is obligated (chayav) to donate tzedakah. This applies even to the poor person who himself is supported by tzedakah; he is obligated to donate from the amount that is provided to him.”[3] Maimonides (Rambam) locates the source of this mitzvah in several Biblical verses: “If there is a needy person among you, one of your kinsmen in any of the settlements of the land that Adonai 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” (Deuteronomy 15:7-8); and “If your kinsman, being in straits, comes under your authority, and you hold him as though a resident alien, let him live by your side. Do not exact from him advance or accrued interest, but fear your God. Let him live by your side as your kinsman” (Leviticus 25:35-36).[4] The word chayav, “obligation,” places tzedakah in the category of actions that the individual has no choice but to undertake. It is a chovah, a duty, and not a free-will gift of the heart. Although it is certainly better to give tzedakah willingly and happily (as befits the fulfillment of a mitzvah) than in an attitude of reluctance (that would testify that we are helping the poor against our will),[5] we frequently remind ourselves that the Hebrew word tzedakah means “justice” and not “charity”: if justice is an obligation that demands our compliance, whether we like it or not, then so is tzedakah.
To say that tzedakah is a religious duty, moreover, is to distinguish it from social or economic policy. Policy, remember, is evaluated by considerations of practicality and efficiency; a religious duty may be incumbent upon every member of the community quite apart from its outcomes. The best demonstration of this is the detail, stated in the Shulchan Arukh passage quoted above, that even the recipient of tzedakah must give tzedakah.[6] The poor person, after all, is one of us, a member of the community defined by adherence to the mitzvot; thus, the words of those Biblical passages apply to him or her no less than they speak to the rest of us. How we decide to spend community funds may be a policy decision; that we all must give tzedakah is a religious value that must be observed in any event.
2. Tzedakah is a Communal Responsibility. The sources cited thus far speak of tzedakah as an obligation incumbent upon the individual. Yet our texts make it clear that the mitzvah to aid the poor is too important to leave to individual decision. The responsibility for raising and disbursing tzedakah resources rests upon the community, which must maintain the social and political institutions necessary for this purpose. As Rambam puts it: “In every town where there exists a Jewish community, the members of that community are obligated (chayavin) to appoint tzedakah collectors, well-known, trustworthy persons who shall make the rounds each Friday, collecting from each individual the sum that is appropriate for him to give and that has been officially imposed upon him.”[7] The timing here is no accident: Friday is the day when the tzedakah officials wish to distribute funds to the poor to help them prepare for Shabbat. Friday is also the day when the Jews tend to be in the marketplace. This makes them more readily accessible to the tzedakah collectors who, as the texts make clear, are not likely to take “no” for an answer.[8]
This communal, institutional responsibility for tzedakah entails a wide grant of legal power. As the codes put it, “If one does not want to donate tzedakah, or if he gives less than is appropriate for him to give, the court can coerce him – physically if necessary – to give the amount for which he has been assessed. (The court may also) attach his assets and take from him” the appropriate amount.[9] This power of coercion over tzedakah is attested in Talmudic law,[10] yet as a number of commentators have noted, it appears to contradict the Rabbinic rule that “the courts do not enforce the observance of positive mitzvot for which the Torah specifies a reward.”[11] The logic seems to be that the promise of the reward is in and of itself a sufficient incentive for the fulfillment of the obligation, so that no manner of coercive inducement is necessary or desirable. In the case of this positive obligation (Deuteronomy 15:8: “you must open your hand and lend him”), the Torah does specify a reward: “for in return [for helping the needy] Adonai your God will bless you in all your efforts and in all your undertakings” (Deuteronomy 15:10). How, therefore, can Jewish law grant to the court the power to coerce an individual to fulfill the duty of tzedakah? Various ideas have been suggested as resolutions of this contradiction.[12] The most powerful and persuasive of these, in our view, is that put forth by R. Yom Tov ibn Ishbili (Ritva, 14th-century Spain): tzedakah involves “the plight of the poor” (machsoram shel aniyim).[13] That is to say, the demand to aid the needy is of such urgency that it overrides the usual rule that commandments that carry a specified reward are exempt from legal coercion. This commandment, it would seem, is too important to leave to the whim of individuals; if they do not wish to fulfill their obligation, the court must be given the power to see that they do. It is with this in mind, perhaps, that the tradition declares “the one who coerces others to give tzedakah receives a greater heavenly reward than the one who (merely) gives tzedakah.”[14]
3. The Administration of Tzedakah. The tradition makes various provisions concerning the proper ways for tzedakah institutions to administer aid to the poor. From these provisions, we garner a number of important insights.
First, the Torah itself requires that we give the poor person “sufficient for whatever he needs” (dei machsoro; Deuteronomy 15:8). The classical sources interpret this demand quite literally: the poor person must be compensated for whatever he or she has lost as a result of becoming poor. “Even if was his custom to ride upon a horse and have a servant lead the way, if he has become poor and lost these things, one is obligated to restore them to him.”[15] This, of course, is a standard often impossible to achieve.[16] Funds are not generally available to restore every person to his or her former economic state, and in any event, no individual donor is obligated to shoulder such a burden alone.[17] The point is that the needs of the poor themselves, rather than those of the donors, are central to the fulfillment of the mitzvah of tzedakah.
Second, the ultimate goal is to eliminate poverty itself. As Rambam famously puts it in his “eight levels of tzedakah,” the highest level is reached when one helps the poor person, whether through a gift, a loan, a job, or the establishment of a business opportunity, to the point that he no longer needs tzedakah in order to support himself.[18] Rambam’s language here is reminiscent of Leviticus 25:35, and some commentators have suggested his source for this halakhah is the midrashic commentary to that verse: it is better to keep a person from falling into poverty in the first place than to wait until he has become poor to help him.[19] His intent may also be to remind us, once again, of the centrality of the recipient to the mitzvah of tzedakah: in aiding the poor, we must do so in a way that does not embarrass them or injure their dignity.[20] From this it follows that those who do not qualify as “poor” are not to receive tzedakah and thus become an unjustified burden upon the community’s limited resources, and the tradition accordingly discusses the appropriate “poverty line” that distinguishes those deserving of assistance from those who are not.[21] Similarly, one’s gift to tzedakah must not be so large as to drive one into poverty.[22] Thus, while we have seen that even the poor are obligated to donate tzedakah, this obligation is annulled when one is so poor that he cannot support himself and his household.[23]
Third, tzedakah is assessed according to the economic status of the donor, rather than in the form of a poll tax (an equal donation from all).[24] Greater wealth brings greater responsibility toward the welfare of one’s fellow citizens.
4. Pledges to Tzedakah. Jewish law understands a pledge to tzedakah as a vow (neder), a self-imposed obligation that one is duty-bound to fulfill.[25] Moreover, “(o)ne who has made a vow to tzedakah is not permitted to retract it.”[26] The relevant legal theory is that when one makes a vow to “Heaven” – for example, a pledge to bring a sacrifice or to make a donation to the ancient Temple or to pay a certain sum to tzedakah – one effectively transfers to “Heaven” the legal title to that object or sum, just as surely as if one had transferred the physical possession of some object or sum to an earthly buyer.[27] On the other hand, one can go before a court (beit din) or before a scholar expert in the laws of vows and seek a release from the obligation through the process of hatarat nedarim, in which one testifies that he or she truly regrets the vow and would never have made it had he or she known “that thus-and-such would have happened.”[28] In principle, this remedy applies to tzedakah pledges as it does to all other vows. However, in an important responsum, R. David ibn Zimra (Radbaz, 16th-century Egypt and Eretz Yisrael) writes that “the scholar who annuls [a pledge to tzedakah] deserves excommunication (nidu’i)… because he has caused a loss to the poor.”[29]
5. The Duty to Support the Synagogue. “Any community consisting of at least ten Jews must provide a structure or space in which its members may gather for prayer at the appointed times. This structure or space is called a synagogue. The citizens may coerce (kofin) each other to build a synagogue and to acquire a sefer torah and the books of the Prophets and the Writings.” These words of Maimonides,[30] particularly the word kofin, the same term used to denote the power of the community to coerce individuals to donate tzedakah, suggest the high importance that our tradition accords to the synagogue and to our duty to support it. If, indeed, the synagogue is regarded as “the Temple in miniature” (mikdash me`at),[31] then the community is required to maintain its synagogues just as surely as the people of Israel were required to build the original sanctuary (mikdash; Exodus 25:8). This raises the possibility that support for building and maintaining synagogues assumes a higher priority than other obligations,[32] including tzedakah. One major authority, R. Yosef Kolon (15th-century Italy) explicitly holds that “the mitzvah to support the synagogue takes precedence over the mitzvah of tzedakah,”[33] and the Shulchan Arukh mentions his opinion.[34] On the other hand, the reasoning he uses to buttress his ruling may strike us as forced.[35] Moreover, a leading contemporary halakhist asserts that when Kolon says “the synagogue takes precedence” he is referring not to its building or physical structure but to the mitzvot that are central to the life of the synagogue (i.e., prayer and Torah study). It is absurd, this halakhist says, to imagine that Kolon would grant priority to the maintenance of “lavishly appointed facilities” (binyanei pe’er) and “luxuries” (motarot) over aid to the poor.[36] The scope of Kolon’s ruling therefore remains a matter of deep controversy in Jewish law, and it is difficult to derive from it or from our other sources a firm and fixed rule for ranking the priorities of tzedakah and the synagogue. Accordingly, the decision in any particular case rests with the judgment of the community and its leaders, who are called upon to weigh both priorities carefully before determining their answer.
In light of this discussion, let us turn now to the questions submitted to us.
Question 1. We are asked “How does our legal tradition balance (the) conflicting influences” of two general lines of policy: fiscal restraint and “a renewed commitment to the poor”? The word “balance” is key here. We do not presume, nor are we professionally qualified, to decide the better economic policy for governments to pursue at a time of deep recession. Economists, as is well known, are deeply divided on this question, with some calling for fiscal discipline and others advocating fiscal stimulus. What we as rabbis are called upon to decide is the course that best reflects our Judaic religious values. And those values teach us, as a community as well as individually, to do tzedakah, to undertake an activist and interventionist approach to social justice that stands in at least some tension with the doctrine of fiscal restraint. We know that some economists believe that a policy of tax-cutting and budget-balancing is the best way to aid the poor, since in their view such a policy will lead most quickly to an economic recovery that will be a boon to all. Whatever the truth of these controversial ideas as a matter of economic theory, they reflect an outlook that is the opposite of tzedakah, which requires us to provide direct aid in the form of cash and other essentials to the poor. This is not a matter of choice, to be left to our feelings of compassion; Jewish law defines tzedakah as a communal, institutional responsibility and provides that the community’s institutions may exercise coercive authority in order to collect tzedakah from those able to pay it. Nor is it a question of economic efficiency; the halakhic discussion of tzedakah defines it as an act of social justice, to be undertaken because it is right and not because it increases the sum total of national wealth.
Again, let us be clear: the goal of this responsum is not to make policy recommendations. We acknowledge that our texts do not explicitly require governments to adopt any one particular economic policy. We simply hold that significant reductions in social welfare spending are inherently suspect in the view of a tradition that teaches that tzedakah – assistance provided directly to the poor to feed them, clothe them, house them, and help them to find gainful employment – is a mitzvah, a positive religious and ethical duty. This suggests to us that, in general, the political efforts of our Jewish institutions should be directed toward supporting programs of social welfare spending rather than toward eliminating them. We recognize, of course, the value of fiscal restraint; our tradition, too, bids us to be careful not to spend tzedakah funds unwisely and unnecessarily.[37] Yet to the extent that we conclude that a reduction in assistance to the poor will harm them rather than help them, our tradition, which obligates the community to practice tzedakah, would urge us to seek a change in that policy.
Question 2. A synagogue exists in order to teach Jewish values and to exemplify them in the way it conducts its business. Tzedakah is one of these values, and the congregation must endeavor to fulfill the obligations of tzedakah in its actions, even (and perhaps especially) in times of economic crisis. At the same time, given that support for the synagogue is a mitzvah, a religious obligation in its own right, a congregation is entitled to raise funds, even during a recession, in order to insure its continued existence. It is no easy thing to locate the proper balance between these two legitimate and potentially conflicting ends. As we have seen, the question of priority – support for the synagogue versus aid to the poor – is a matter of no little controversy in Jewish law. Here, at any rate, is our effort to locate that balance, at least in broad outline.
a. There is no question that the synagogue may raise funds to support its central programmatic functions, such as worship and education. This must be taken into account as the synagogue considers how it may best fulfill the requirements of tzedakah in its budgetary policy. Thus, while a congregation may certainly try “to preserve employment of its custodial and secretarial staff” as a way of supporting the most economically vulnerable among its employees, it need not (and arguably should not) sacrifice its “programmatic needs” in order to do so. Our lower-paid staff should by all means figure prominently in our concern, but the fact remains that tefilah and talmud torah are the reasons that the synagogue exists in the first place; Jewish life can hardly prosper unless we support them. On the other hand, whatever “priority” the tradition may grant to the synagogue over tzedakah would seem not to include the raising of funds for building and expansion projects that are not immediately vital to the central programmatic goals of the congregation. Such projects should be delayed, if possible, until the economic crisis has passed, allowing congregations to direct their efforts toward the more pressing demands of tzedakah, such as the retention of staff.
b. While we are entitled to raise funds, we are forbidden to ask for donations from those who tend to give more than they should, whether out of an exaggerated sense of generosity or out of a desire to escape public humiliation.[38] That is to say, we can ask too much of individuals in the name of tzedakah, and this is something that we certainly ought to remember when many of our members are struggling financially.
c. A pledge to the synagogue, like a pledge to tzedakah, is defined by our tradition as a vow. In practical terms, this means that it is a promise that is taken with the highest degree of moral – and legal[39] – seriousness. Individuals should strive to meet their pledges to the synagogue, even during a recession. However, a serious decline in one’s economic fortunes is regarded as valid grounds for annulling a vow (hatarat nedarim),[40] and the one who does so is not subject to criticism on the grounds that he or she has caused “a loss to the poor.” Congregations should be ready to extend the terms of pledges so that those who are struggling financially need not feel an obligation to pay their pledges now.
Question 3. Tzedakah is, ultimately, a religious duty incumbent upon every individual, including the one who receives tzedakah. Accordingly, there is no right to say “no” to tzedakah, even during a recession. The gift should not place an unreasonable burden upon one’s finances; if the individual’s situation is especially critical, the gift can be a symbolic one. But the gift must be made, for we are a community defined by the performance of mitzvot, and none among us should be excluded from that community.
NOTES
1. The term “collective conscience” is that of the late Professor Jacob Katz, who argues powerfully against the “romantic conception” that Jewish law, interpreted and applied by rabbinical scholars, governed the political and economic life of the Jews in pre-Emancipation times. Although by and large the Jewish communities of the period did possess juridical autonomy, says Katz, this did not mean the public life of those communities was conducted in accordance with Rabbinic law. The rabbis rather accepted that the communities could arrive at whatever decisions their leaders thought practical and necessary, so long as those decisions did not involve obvious sins or injustice. See Jacob Katz, Halakhah vekabalah (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1984), 237-251. The phrase “collective conscience” is at 245.
2. This does not mean that the CCAR and its constituent committees are not entitled to recommend that governments adopt specific economic and social policies. We do this all the time, especially in our social action work, and we rightly regard it as an essential aspect of our rabbinical function. Our point is rather that the Jewish textual tradition, which is the literary basis of our activity on the Responsa Committee, does not necessarily favor one specific economic policy – say, a policy favoring massive economic stimulus by the government – over another. If we wish to advocate for a stimulus, in other words, we can do so on the basis of a conviction that it more effectively achieves the goal of social justice than a policy of budgetary restraint. The pro-and-con argument in that case is governed by pragmatic considerations of economic efficiency. We should not claim, however, that the Biblical and Rabbinic sources “require” such a policy or its opposite. Interpretation of those texts, even of the most creative variety, is unlikely to produce a satisfactory answer to the question.
3. Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 248:1.
4. Rambam, Sefer Hamitzvot, positive commandment no. 195, and Yad, Matanot Aniyim 7:1. This is repeated in Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 247:1.
5. This point is stated most famously in Rambam’s “eight degrees of tzedakah”: the one who gives tzedakah with a cheerful face, even though the amount is less than it ought to be, ranks higher on the scale that the one who gives be`etzev, with a countenance that displays sadness, anger, stinginess, etc. See Yad, Matanot Aniyim 10:13-14.
6. The source for this halakhah is B. Gitin 7b. But see below at note 23.
7. Yad, Matanot Aniyim 9:1. And see at 9:3: “I have never heard of a Jewish community that does not possess a public institution for the collection of tzedakah.”
8. See B. Bava Batra 8b and Yad, Matanot Aniyim 7:10: collectors are entitled to accept pledges (i.e., items pawned as security) in lieu of tzedakah “even on Friday.” The point, notes Rashi (Bava Batra 8b, s.v. afilu be`erev shabbat), is that on Friday an individual might reasonably claim that he is too busy with his own Sabbath preparations to negotiate his tzedakah donation. Thus, the collectors are empowered to accept a pledge “even” on that day, which underscores the importance of tzedakah as a Jewish religious value.
9. Yad, Matanot Aniyim 7:10; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 248:1.
10. B. Bava Batra 8b: “Rava exercised legal coercion upon Rav Natan bar Ami, taking from him 400 zuzim for tzedakah.”
11. B. Chulin 110b. Among these commentators are Tosafot, Bava Batra 8b, s.v. akhpeh lerav natan.
12. These include (see Tosafot loc. cit.): a) the “coercion” of which the Talmud speaks is not a legal power but one of moral swuasion and condemnation; b) while the Torah does not authorize coercion in a case such as this, the community resolved among themselves to bestow that power upon its leaders; c) the mitzvah of tzedakah is not only a positive obligation but in fact involves the negative commandment of “do not harden your heart and shut your hand” (Deut. 15:7) – and the Torah does permit the court to use coercion to punish the violation of prohibitions (“thou-shalt-nots”).
13. Chidushei HaRitva, Ketubot 49b.
14. B. Bava Batra 9a; Yad, Matanot Aniyim 10:6; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 249:5.
15. B. Ketubot 67b; Sifre to Deuteronomy 15:8 (piska 116); Yad, Matanot Aniyim 7:3; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 250:1.
16. See Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 249:1: if one can afford it, one gives tzedakah “according to the needs of the poor”; if one cannot afford that amount, one gives a fixed portion of one’s income.
17. Isserles, Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 250:1.
18. Yad, Matanot Aniyim 10:7, the highest level (ma`alah) of Rambam’s eight levels of tzedakah.
19. The commentators are R. David ibn Zimra to Yad ad loc. See Sifra to Lev. 25:35 and the Gaon of Vilna, Bi’ur HaGra, Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 249, no. 8.
20. See Beit Yosef, Tur Yoreh De`ah 249 (in explaining Rambam’s “highest level” of tzedakah), as well as B. Ketubot 67b: if the poor person does not wish to accept a gift, then we call the tzedakah a “loan” (for which we might not ask repayment) in order to spare his pride.
21. “One who has enough food for two meals may not take from the tamchui (“charity-plate”); one who has enough food for fourteen meals may not take from the kupah (communal tzedakah fund); one who has two hundred zuz and does no business with them, or one who has fifty zuz and does do business with them may not take tzedakah at all”; B. Shabbat 118a and Ketubot 68a; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 253:1. Several medieval authorities suggest that these ancient sums are no longer relevant and that nowadays one may accept tzedakah until he has a fund of money sufficient to do business and support himself and his family; among these are the Mordekhai, Bava Batra ch. 500. The Shulchan Arukh cites this opinion approvingly in Yreh De`ah 253:2.
22. One should not give more than one-fifth of his annual income to tzedakah (B. Ketubot 50a), lest one be forced to seek tzedakah from others (Rashi ad loc., s.v. hamevazbez). See Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 249:1.
23. Siftei Kohen, Yoreh De`ah 248, no. 1.
24. Resp. Rashba (R. Shelomo ben Adret, 13th-14th century Spain) 3:380; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 250:5.
25. B. Rosh Hashanah 6a (based upon Deuteronomy 23:24); Yad, Matanot Aniyim 8:1; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 257:3.
26. Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 258:6, ratifying the conclusions reached by a long line of authorities: R. Yitzchak Alfasi, Hilkhot HaRif, Bava Kama fol. 18b; Tosafot, Bava Kama 36b, s.v. yad; R. Asher b. Yechiel, Hilkhot HaRosh, Bava Kama 4:3; R. Shelomo b. Adret, Resp. Rashba 3:298; and Tur, Yoreh De`ah 258.
27. Amirato legevo`ah kemesirato lehedyot: M. Kidushin 1:6, Tosefta Kidushin (ed. Lieberman) 1:9; B. Kidushin 28b and parallels.
28. Rambam describes the process in Yad, Shevu`ot 6:1ff.
29. Resp. Radbaz 4:134. See our responsum no. 5769.2, “Annulling a Pledge to Tzedakah.”
30. Yad, Tefilah 11:1.
31. B. Megilah 29a, from a midrash on Ezekiel 11:16.
32. “Possibility” implies that such is not always the case. For example, the holiness of a beit midrash, a place for the study of Torah, outranks the holiness of a synagogue that is used primarily as a place for prayer; thus, we may turn a synagogue into a house of study, but we may not turn a house of study into a synagogue. See B. Megilah 26b; Yad, Tefilah 11:14; Shulchan Arukh Orach Chayim 153:1; and Mishnah Berurah 153, no. 1.
33. Resp. Maharik, shoresh 128.
34. Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 249:16 cites Kolon as yesh mi she’omer, “one authority holds that…”, casting some doubt as to whether R. Yosef Karo, the author of that great code, endorses Kolon’s ruling. However, in his Beit Yosef commentary to the Tur, Karo explains how Kolon derives his ruling from its Talmudic source (see following note) and raises no objection to that ruling.
35. Kolon bases himself upon Y. Peah 8:8 (21b). The passage is a difficult one, but most readers interpret it to suggest that support for the sick and for students of Torah takes precedence over support for the synagogue. Given that the passage does not include “the poor” in its list of ends that take precedence over support for the synagogue, Kolon perhaps understands it to exclude tzedakah from that list. Such, at least, is how R. Yosef Karo reads the responsum (Beit Yosef, Yoreh De`ah 249). The problem, of course, is that this is a classic argument from silence: the failure of the talmudic passage to say anything about “the poor” may be a coincidence and not evidence that the synagogue enjoys a higher priority than tzedakah. At any rate, R. Eliahu, the Gaon of Vilna, is openly skeptical about the proof (Bi’ur HaGra, Yoreh De`ah 249, no. 20).
36. R. Shmuel Halevy Wosner, Resp. Shevet Halevy 9:199. Wosner argues that Kolon distinguishes between ordinary donations to a tzedakah fund and the assistance given to poor persons who are actually in need: the latter is in fact a higher priority than supporting the synagogue, for to aid the poor is a mitzvah of the Torah (Deuteronomy 15:7-8). The logic of Wosner’s distinction between tzedakah and aid to the poor is difficult to fathom, but his position is clear.
37. See at note 21, above. See also B. Pesachim 112a and B. Bava Batra 110a: one should go to great lengths to avoid taking tzedakah (Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 255:1).
38. B. Bava Batra 8b; Shulchan Arukh Yoreh De`ah 248:7.
39. See our responsum 5764.1, “Collection of Debts to the Congregation” (http://data.ccarnet.org/cgi‑bin/respdisp.pl?file=1&year=5764 ): a synagogue is entitled under Jewish law to sue in civil court for payment of pledges. This right, however, involves a serious threat to the standing of the synagogue as a religious institution; it should be invoked sparingly, if at all.
40. See Yad, Nedarim 13:25: it is a mitzvah to fulfill a vow to hekdesh (the Temple and, by extension, the synagogue) and not to try to gain release from it, unless one has fallen into financial difficulty.
If needed, please consult Abbreviations used in CCAR Responsa.