What Do I Accomplish in the Higher Worlds When I Put 10 Agorot in the Charity Box? | Rabbi Asher Perkesh

00:00 What is the point of putting coins in a tzedakah box? It makes sense when there’s a poor person: someone comes, asks me for help, and I give to him. Then I become part of the acts of tzedakah and kindness in the world. But when there’s no poor person, no one in need, no one there at all—what does it mean to drop a coin into a tzedakah box? What’s the purpose? I understand giving when a poor person comes and asks me, but when he isn’t there, what is this act of putting a coin in a tzedakah box? Today we’ll study this subject. First we’ll talk a little about the story, the history of how tzedakah boxes developed, and then explain the deeper meaning according to Chassidus, particularly the words of the Alter Rebbe. As we’ll soon recount, he himself was extraordinarily involved in collecting tzedakah for the poor of Eretz Yisroel. There are wonderful letters on the subject, and we’ll discuss some of his explanations. They shed light on this simple act, give it depth, and help us understand something we do several times a day—or should do as often as possible: put a coin in a tzedakah box. So let’s begin with how this developed. The idea of giving through a tzedakah fund is already mentioned by the Rambam as one way of giving tzedakah. We know that in his halachic work, Mishneh Torah, also called Yad Hachazakah, in the laws of gifts to the poor, the Rambam describes eight levels, eight degrees of giving tzedakah. He lists different ways of giving, one after another. Among the higher levels, he speaks about giving to a tzedakah fund. What exactly is the benefit of giving to such a fund? Why is it

02:19 considered one of the higher levels? The Rambam explains that there is something remarkable about giving tzedakah to a fund: you give without knowing who will receive it, and the poor person doesn’t know who gave it. The Rambam, after all, is discussing levels of giving tzedakah. There is something special about giving in secret, specifically when I give tzedakah without knowing who the poor person receiving it is. Then a person has fewer personal motives. Sometimes I give tzedakah to someone I know, and I know who is receiving it. There can also be a personal motive mixed in—something self-serving, a sense of honor or importance, a feeling of “I.” When I don’t know whom I’m giving to, it’s a kind of giving for its own sake. I give tzedakah for the sake of the mitzvah of tzedakah, without mixing in any personal consideration. Giving for its own sake, giving in secret. On the other hand, for the poor person receiving the tzedakah, not knowing whom it comes from also makes a difference when it comes to embarrassment. Human nature is such that a person feels embarrassed to receive. When someone doesn’t know whom he is receiving from, that embarrassment isn’t there either. So when you give tzedakah to a tzedakah fund, the giving is complete: you gave it for the sake of Heaven, without any personal motive mixed in. And for the poor person, the receiving is complete: he feels no embarrassment in accepting it. That is why giving through a tzedakah fund is considered one of the higher levels of giving tzedakah. Over the generations, this was once only a communal arrangement. The tzedakah fund belonged to the community; there was a communal tzedakah collector, and people would give to him. Over time,

04:20 the custom developed of having a tzedakah box in every home. This happened mainly around the time when many Jews began moving from Europe to Eretz Yisroel. More specifically, we’re speaking here about the period of the students of the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid of Mezritch. There was a large migration of chassidim around the year 5537, somewhere around that period—1772, approximately then. A large group of students of the Baal Shem Tov went, among them Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk, one of the prominent leaders of Chassidus in its third generation. He had been a student of the Baal Shem Tov and later of the Maggid of Mezritch. He and several other leading figures in Chassidus—Rabbi Menachem Mendel Mordechai [unclear], Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk, and others—went up to Eretz Yisroel together with entire families and settled in Tiberias, then in Tzfas, and later also in Hebron, Jerusalem, and other places. It is even known that the Alter Rebbe, the author of the Tanya, initially planned to go to Eretz Yisroel with his family. He had already traveled part of the way, reaching the seashore, from where they were supposed to continue. They stopped there for a time, and the tzaddik Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk called for him. The Alter Rebbe considered himself something of a student and colleague of his. On the one hand, he was his chossid, but they were also, in a sense, colleagues—a “student-colleague,” as it was called. Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk instructed the Alter Rebbe, urging and asking him to remain in Russia. He told him that if he left, G-d forbid, Chassidus would not continue throughout Russia. The Alter Rebbe accepted this, turned back, and remained in Russia. There he established the approach of Chabad Chassidus.

06:38 When the Alter Rebbe remained in Russia, one of the things he began, together with other students of the Maggid of Mezritch, was what they called the kollel. That was their responsibility. They collected money from towns throughout Russia and Ukraine, and from other surrounding countries, including Poland—wherever Jews lived and there were communities of chassidim. The Rebbes and the chassidim worked to collect funds, and tzedakah collectors traveled back and forth between Europe and Eretz Yisroel to bring the money. The Alter Rebbe was one of the foremost people involved in this work. We find dozens, perhaps hundreds, of letters—Igros Kodesh of the Alter Rebbe—in which he urges and encourages the chassidim to give money to tzedakah. And this continued: the Alter Rebbe, his son the Mitteler Rebbe, and then, more broadly, it became part of the ways of Chassidus in general and Chabad Chassidus in particular, to collect funds for the poor and needy in the Holy Land. At that time the Alter Rebbe—and later his son, Rabbi DovBer, the Mitteler Rebbe, established it more firmly—made it a regular practice for every chassidic home to have a tzedakah box. It was called a tzedakah box in the merit of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness, and it was for the poor of Eretz Yisroel. So what exactly is the point? What is it about giving tzedakah through tzedakah boxes? The question is that, seemingly, there were tzedakah collectors who would come around from time to time—once a year, twice a year, or whatever the custom was then. They would go through the towns collecting money, bring it to the Alter Rebbe, to the Rebbe, and from there the details of its distribution would be decided and it would be sent to Eretz Yisroel. So for that purpose, when the collector arrives, people bring

08:57 the tzedakah to him. So the Alter Rebbe told him that there needs to be a practice of giving tzedakah. At the time, the custom was to set aside a sum of money every week and put it in a tzedakah box. Later it became even more frequent—not just every week, but every day. From generation to generation, putting tzedakah in a box became such a part of ordinary Jewish life in every community and every place that today, in our generation, we see a tzedakah box in every Jewish home. We know that the Rebbe, particularly in our generation, made an entire campaign of tzedakah and tzedakah boxes, so that every home would have one. Over time, the Rebbe also spoke about having one not only in every home, but in children’s rooms too: every child should have a tzedakah box in their bedroom, to get them accustomed to giving tzedakah every day. The Rebbe also spoke about having a tzedakah box in the kitchen or dining room, as a segulah for the food to be healthier and more nourishing. And as for how often to give, one of the things we saw was how strongly the Rebbe encouraged and spoke about giving tzedakah every day before davening—before Shacharis and also before Minchah. Before lighting Shabbos candles, there is a special segulah for a woman, a daughter, a young girl, to put money in a tzedakah box when she lights. It is a special segulah for all the prayers offered at that moment, which is a particularly auspicious time, to be accepted in a special way. Beyond that, the Rebbe always encouraged having a tzedakah box in every setting. Whenever there is some kind of gathering, a party or a celebration, there should be a tzedakah box on the table—at weddings, brissim, and bar mitzvahs too. If, G-d forbid, someone is in a hospital, there too there should be a tzedakah

11:09 box, giving Jews the opportunity to do the mitzvah. The Rebbe also spoke about this as a segulah for healing. When there is a tzedakah box in a hospital room, that too can be a reason for Hashem’s presence to be there. And if you give tzedakah, then with Hashem’s help you will also leave that place sooner, healthy and whole. What exactly is the deeper significance of tzedakah boxes? There is a wonderful explanation here. Let’s begin with what the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya, in Likkutei Amarim, about the inner purpose of giving tzedakah. The Alter Rebbe focuses on a teaching of our Sages in Tractate Bava Basra. There, when the Gemara discusses the subject of tzedakah—it discusses redemption, sorry, tzedakah—it says several remarkable things about tzedakah. First, the Gemara says that tzedakah is equal to all the mitzvos combined. Second, it says, “Great is tzedakah, for it brings the Geulah closer.” In other words, tzedakah has a remarkable power and segulah that is not said of any other mitzvah. It is specifically of the mitzvah of tzedakah that we say, “Great is tzedakah, for it brings the Geulah closer.” What is the explanation for this? Why is tzedakah equal to all the mitzvos combined? And why do we say specifically about tzedakah that it brings the Geulah closer? There is another teaching of our Sages in the Midrashim: “The Jewish people will be redeemed only through tzedakah.” We learn this from a verse in the haftorah that is always read on the Shabbos before Tisha B’Av, Shabbos Chazon, from the first chapter of Yeshayahu. The difficult haftorah read on Shabbos Chazon, the Shabbos before Tisha B’Av, is a very stern message of rebuke from Yeshayahu to the Jewish people: because of all their improper conduct, the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash came about. But how does it end? It ends with consolation. Its final line, its final verse, is: “Tziyon will be redeemed through justice, and those who return to her through tzedakah.” Justice refers to Torah, and tzedakah—especially “those who return to her through tzedakah”—

13:26 means that through the mitzvah of tzedakah we will merit the Geulah. What is the connection between the mitzvah of tzedakah and the Geulah? In Tanya, the Alter Rebbe gives us a wonderful, deep, and fundamental explanation to understand what lies within the mitzvah of tzedakah and what power it has. The Alter Rebbe’s explanation depends on understanding what we are waiting for in the first place: what is the purpose of creation? We speak about the days of Moshiach, about the Geulah. What exactly is the point of the Geulah? The Rebbe explains that the Geulah means that the world will be freed from its spiritual exile, that all of creation will be freed from the bonds of impurity, kelipah, and the sitra achra. Our world is a world in which good and evil are mixed. Hashem created the physical world in such a way that it contains both good and evil, to the point that evil predominates in it. There is the reality of kelipah, impurity, and the sitra achra, particularly in our lowest world, this physical world, which is, in the words of Tanya, “full of kelipos and the sitra achra.” That means the force of impurity is present in everything in our world, and a Jew’s task is to refine the world. When a Jew studies Torah and fulfills mitzvos, every good deed he does in Torah and mitzvos brings about refinement and rectification. He takes things from the world, refines them, and makes them fit to be vessels, so that when the time comes, when Moshiach arrives and the entire world is completely refined, the infinite light—Hashem Himself—will be revealed down here in this lowest world. All of this is based on the famous teaching of our Sages in the Midrash: Hashem’s desire, His innermost will, was the reason for the whole creation of the world. Hashem wants to have a dwelling—that this physical world should be, as it were, His dwelling,

15:42 the place where He is revealed, where He resides. That is what will be revealed when Moshiach comes. Then, throughout the world, “Hashem will be King over all the earth; on that day Hashem will be one and His name one.” When the world reaches its fulfillment, at the time of Moshiach’s coming, the entire world will become a place where Hashem can be revealed. But for that to happen, Hashem entrusted the work to the Jew. Since the giving of the Torah at Matan Torah, generation after generation, for more than three thousand years, Jews have been in the world fulfilling mitzvos—positive mitzvos and prohibitions. By observing the prohibitions, we keep the world from being soiled by impurity and negative things. Through the positive mitzvos, we draw down and bring G-dly light into this physical world. In this way, little by little, over all the generations, the world is refined as Jews are present in every place on earth. In exile they go to all sorts of places; there is no place a Jew has not reached. A Jew arrives somewhere, says a verse of Torah, performs a mitzvah, and takes something physical from the world. You take some physical thing—for example, the hide of an animal—and make it into parchment on which a Sefer Torah, tefillin, or mezuzos are written. From wool we make talleisim and tzitzis. And the same is true of every physical thing in the world: we eat, but we say a blessing before and after eating and eat for the sake of Heaven; we take a coin and give it to tzedakah. In this way, we make the world into a dwelling for Hashem. So the Rebbe says: if this is the purpose of creation, and this is why Hashem took the soul of

17:41 The Jew—whose soul is literally a part of G-d above. The soul was in Gan Eden, in the loftiest, most wonderful place, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu brought it down into the exile of the body, into a physical body with an animal soul and a yetzer hara. The soul spends an entire lifetime in the body, in this struggle between good and evil. What is the whole purpose of this exile? It is so that the soul will refine and work on the body and the animal soul. By learning Torah, observing mitzvos, and working with the body, we refine our physical nature—the self-centered, physical side of ourselves. Through Torah and mitzvos, we make our body, our animal soul, and everything in the world that we use into a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The Alter Rebbe says that, of all the mitzvos, the mitzvah through which a person does the deepest work of refining the physical is tzedakah. When a person has money, that money contains something very powerful of the world’s physicality. First of all, a person worked for that money. Usually, a person works hard to earn it. He exerted himself and put all his energies into it. We know that in business, in earning a living, a person invests effort, energy, intellect, and emotion. He puts his whole self into making the business succeed and turn a profit. So when I’ve earned money, it isn’t just those coins. That money is the result of all the work into which I put myself—my body, my soul, all my strength—until I managed to earn it. Now the money is mine, and I want to use it for my needs. I want to buy myself

19:51 food, clothes, a home, and sometimes other things too—luxuries. I also want things for comfort, to travel, to enjoy myself. So I have this money, and I want to use it for my needs, for my household and family, for all sorts of things that are for me. And then I say: No. I’ll take these coins, this money that I could have used for my personal and family needs, and I’ll give it to tzedakah. I’ll give it to a poor person I don’t know; I don’t know who he is. I’ll set this money aside as tzedakah for someone in need. In that act, the sacrifice of our body’s physical desires, of our animal soul and our yetzer hara, is the greatest sacrifice. It encompasses our whole being and asks a great deal of us. As the Rebbe says there, usually this is money a person truly worked hard to earn. But even if not—say someone didn’t work hard to get the money. He received it from somewhere else; perhaps he himself didn’t invest much effort in earning it, but he has it. A child who gets money from his parents, or someone in a similar situation, has money he received without working hard. But the very fact that I could have used the money for myself and gave it to someone else instead—that is the point. Here, the body and animal soul make a sacrifice in the deepest way. Here, a person makes a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu in the most wonderful and profound way. And that is why the Gemara says, “Tzedakah is equal to all the mitzvos.” After all, what is the inner purpose of all the mitzvos?

21:41 It is that through every mitzvah, we refine the physical and make the world a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, preparing the world for the Shechinah to rest in it. That happens with every mitzvah. But tzedakah is the mitzvah in which the physical is refined to the greatest degree, and that itself is why “Great is tzedakah, for it brings the Geulah nearer.” When we want to bring the Geulah nearer and bring it about, what is the Geulah? The Geulah is bringing the world to a state of perfection, in which the world is refined—beginning with my own body and animal soul, and then the whole world around me. It is preparing the world to be refined and become a place where Hakadosh Boruch Hu can reveal Himself and cause His glorious Shechinah to dwell, with the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu speedily in our days, amen. This depends on the mitzvah of tzedakah more than on any other mitzvah. Great is tzedakah, for it brings the Geulah nearer. That is, broadly speaking, the depth of giving tzedakah, especially in our time. From here, the Alter Rebbe turns to the letters he wrote. The Tanya includes Likkutei Amarim, which is what we’ve been discussing. This point is explained in Likkutei Amarim, where the Alter Rebbe explains the foundation of tzedakah. But there is also Igeres Hakodesh. That section contains letters the Alter Rebbe wrote to his students, to chassidim, and to Jews everywhere, as we discussed, to encourage them to give tzedakah. In one of those letters, Igeres Hakodesh, section 21, the Alter Rebbe explains the remarkable depth of putting tzedakah into a tzedakah box even though the tzedakah collector has not yet come. What is special about putting small coins into tzedakah, looking for opportunities at every turn to put in another coin and another coin, until, after a while, all those coins add up to a substantial sum and become a large gift? Why not give a large sum in the first place? The Alter Rebbe gives two truly wonderful points

23:54 that we’ll discuss now. One point, says the Alter Rebbe, is the virtue of acting promptly. There is something special about that. The first person who gave us an example of the mitzvos of kindness and tzedakah was, as we all know, Avraham Avinu. Avraham Avinu, our first forefather, was the embodiment of kindness, the embodiment of tzedakah. He is called “Avraham, who loves Me.” Avraham Avinu was entirely devoted to the attribute of kindness. What do we know about Avraham Avinu’s kindness? One of the things we learn from him is the importance of acting promptly. And here the Rebbe says something truly remarkable. We all speak about the Akeidah, the Binding of Yitzchak. Of all Avraham Avinu’s tests—the ten tests with which he was tested—the greatest was the test of the Akeidah. Throughout the Midrashim, it is counted as the tenth and greatest test. That is why, when Rosh Hashanah comes, at the beginning of the year, we read about the Akeidah. The entire mitzvah of shofar is connected with the Akeidah. There is something remarkable about it. The Alter Rebbe asks a simple question: Why do we make such a big deal of the Akeidah? Hakadosh Boruch Hu spoke to Avraham Avinu; the righteous Avraham received a message from Him. Of course Avraham would accept it. Of course he would do what Hashem said. After all, says the Alter Rebbe, there have been acts of mesirus nefesh. We have seen righteous, good people throughout the generations who gave their lives, showing even greater mesirus nefesh than in the account of Avraham Avinu. Why do we make so much of Avraham Avinu’s mesirus nefesh at the Akeidah? Why do we treat it as though it was the greatest test? What exactly was the test of the Akeidah? Hashem told him, commanded him, and he did what Hashem said. Surely Avraham Avinu would do what

25:56 That Hashem told him. There are many explanations, of course, but here we come to a wonderful point that the Alter Rebbe emphasizes. What was the great test of the Akeidah? It was not the mere fact that Avraham listened to Hakadosh Boruch Hu and went to take his son to the Akeidah. That was not the heart of it; that was not what made the test so great. What makes the story of the Akeidah such a major event, such an important thing in Judaism, is Avraham Avinu’s eagerness. It is that “Avraham rose early in the morning.” Yes, I received a command, an instruction, from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Hakadosh Boruch Hu told me: Go, take your son, your only son. I am going to do it. Certainly—but stay with your son for a few more days. Enjoy his company. Hakadosh Boruch Hu did not tell you to do it today. Why not do it tomorrow? He said to do it, so let’s wait a few days, give ourselves a little time, gain some time. This is the dearest, most wonderful thing: the only son born to me in my old age. But no: “Avraham rose early in the morning.” Avraham Avinu got up in the morning to saddle his donkey. He got up and hurried to prepare everything himself, not through servants, and set out on his way. In this, as the Alter Rebbe puts it, he showed his desire and great joy in his extraordinary eagerness to fulfill his Creator’s will. And from this we receive the message. It was Avraham Avinu’s extraordinary eagerness that stood by us. We mention the Akeidah every day before davening and speak about the Akeidah of Yitzchak. On Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgment, we speak about the Akeidah of Yitzchak. What is so exalted about the Akeidah of Yitzchak? It is Avraham Avinu’s eagerness. That is what gives us strength. From it we learn how a Jew should be eager to perform every mitzvah.

27:54 From this we learn the halachah that those who are eager perform mitzvos at the earliest opportunity: with every mitzvah, a Jew should try to act promptly, to perform it sooner rather than later. But of course, with the mitzvos of tzedakah and kindness, which were Avraham Avinu’s hallmark, this eagerness is certainly needed all the more. How do I act eagerly in giving tzedakah? There is not a poor or needy person standing at my door every moment. There is not always someone asking me for tzedakah. So when I have a tzedakah box at home, a tzedakah box in my room, a tzedakah box at work, in the office, in the business—when I have a tzedakah box in different places—I have the opportunity at any moment, at any point in time, to take a coin and drop it into the box. By doing that, I act promptly. Yes, when the tzedakah collector comes, I will give to him too. But by giving earlier, I give before they come to ask me. That is the mitzvah of eagerness in giving tzedakah, and I can fulfill it through a tzedakah box. That is one point. Then the Alter Rebbe adds a second, truly wonderful point. “And this is based on the teaching of the Mishnah.” Here we will see something wonderful: an explanation of the Mishnah as understood by the Rambam, and how Chassidus adds depth to that explanation, giving it a profound and wonderful meaning from a deeper, spiritual place. The Mishnah is in the third chapter of Pirkei Avos, Mishnah 15. It quotes Rabbi Akiva—who has not heard of the great Rabbi Akiva? He gives several teachings there. One of them is an extremely short Mishnah about which the Rambam writes wonderful things. Here we see the greatness of our sages: in a few words, they conveyed wonderful foundations of all Judaism. Rabbi Akiva says,

30:01 “Everything is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is given; the world is judged with goodness, and everything is according to the abundance of deeds.” Four things Rabbi Akiva teaches us in this Mishnah—four foundations of every Jew’s life. First, everything is foreseen. Hakadosh Boruch Hu sees everything, knows everything, watches over everything. Everything is foreseen. Second, freedom of choice is given. Do not think that because everything is foreseen, you have no free choice. Heaven forbid. Freedom of choice is given. Although Hakadosh Boruch Hu knows everything, He does not force us or compel us to do anything. A Jew chooses for himself whether to act for good or otherwise. Of course, this is a whole subject—the question of Divine foreknowledge and free choice—and today’s class is not the place to discuss it. Rabbi Akiva continues: “And the world is judged with goodness.” How does that follow? The Rebbe explains in one of his sichos, and the connection is wonderful. Once we know that everything is foreseen—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu watches, observes, knows, and sees all our actions—and, on the other hand, that at every moment we have free choice to choose our path, for good or otherwise, a person can start to panic, to feel tense and afraid. At every moment I am in a situation where I do not know whether I am doing good or doing wrong. All the time we face obstacles, tests, and difficulties. Surely Hakadosh Boruch Hu sees us; He knows every detail of what we do, and we have free choice. So of course I am afraid. Of course I worry that I will not manage to do things properly, especially since we have a yetzer hara, each of us has our own weaknesses, and we have all the difficulties around us. So I am sure I am

32:06 going to fail. I will give up before I even begin. The Mishnah tells us, Rabbi Akiva tells us: Know this—the world is judged with goodness. Hakadosh Boruch Hu judges a person with goodness. He enters into our reality; He knows us, knows all our weaknesses, knows our difficulties, and certainly takes all those details into account. So relax. That is what it means: “The world is judged with goodness.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu judges us with great goodness. But on the other hand, what is the way forward? What is the advice? How does a person live and conduct himself properly, in a good way, in accordance with the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu? This is the great secret Rabbi Akiva teaches us. The fourth point is the most important one to know: “Everything is according to the abundance of deeds.” The commentators offer many explanations, but the Rambam says that “according to the abundance of deeds” means doing many deeds. Simply doing many good deeds. You can do many good deeds, and then he says something wonderful. The Rambam says this in his commentary on the Mishnah: You can give a thousand dollars all at once, or you can divide that thousand dollars into a thousand separate gifts. Of course, we have to be careful not to make a mistake here, right? A person should not use this as a reason to give less instead of more. When you have the ability to give more, you should give more. But when we are talking about the same total amount, as in the situation we discussed earlier, where the money was meant to reach the tzedakah collector, who might not come for six months or a year—I can wait and give him all the money at once when he comes. Or, in the meantime, I can put a coin into the box every day. In the end, I will reach the same total. Here comes the Mishnah’s message. When you have the

34:08 The possibility of dividing up the giving and giving more and more each day—that’s the abundance of deeds. What matters to Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the abundance of deeds: that I do it again and again. What does that accomplish? It refines the soul and the character traits. When a person gets into the habit of giving, it’s different from giving once, all at once. Even if I gave a large amount and it was something tremendous, it was still just one act. That doesn’t bring about refinement. In the Rambam’s words, it doesn’t create an enduring quality in the soul; it doesn’t make me into a good person, a person of kindness. Part of serving Hashem is that the soul should be refined. As we said earlier, a Jew’s work is to work with the body and soul, to truly refine them, so that a person changes and becomes more G-dly, more refined—so that my very being, my body, becomes, so to speak, a vehicle for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That happens when I get myself into the habit of giving, through many acts of giving, again and again and again. In Tanya, the Alter Rebbe uses the expression “the hand that distributes tzedakah to the poor.” My hand should become a hand that distributes. A person who gives once, even if he gives a lot at one time, has not become “a hand that distributes.” The idea is for my hand to become a hand that distributes, and it all depends on the abundance of deeds. When you perform many acts, your body is gradually refined, and you become a person of kindness, a person of tzedakah—a hand that distributes. My hand becomes a hand through which the kindness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu flows. It’s the abundance of deeds that accomplishes this. So, the Alter Rebbe says, there is something wonderful about performing many acts. You have a tzedakah box at home, and you put in a coin in the morning, in the afternoon, before eating, and at all

36:14 sorts of times and in all sorts of situations. You get yourself into the habit of giving tzedakah. It all depends on the abundance of deeds: the refinement of the soul, the enduring quality formed within it. A person becomes a person of kindness, a giver, a person who follows in the ways of Avraham Avinu. And here the Alter Rebbe adds another central, very deep point about the Geulah, as we said earlier. The Alter Rebbe says there is another aspect here too. Especially when we are awaiting Moshiach’s arrival and want to bring the Shechinah out of exile. The Shechinah is in exile. The Gemara tells us, in the words of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, that when Jews are in exile, the Shechinah is in exile. In the language of the Zohar, it is called “the fallen sukkah of David.” That is actually a verse, but the Zohar speaks of the Shechinah and says that the Shechinah is called “the fallen sukkah of David.” In other words, the Shechinah, so to speak, falls. When the Jewish people are in exile, the Shechinah too falls into the dust and darkness of exile. And we have the ability to lift the Shechinah, to raise the Shechinah out of exile. How do we do that? By giving tzedakah. When a Jew gives money, does an act of kindness, gives tzedakah to someone poor, to someone who has nothing—through that giving... So what should we do? At the very next opportunity, when you have a tzedakah box, don’t think twice. Take a coin out of your pocket and put it in the box. At every opportunity we have: as we discussed earlier, in the morning before Shacharis, before Minchah, or even just in the middle of the day. There’s nothing stopping you. You walk into a place and see a tzedakah box—put in tzedakah. Before eating, yes, give tzedakah before you go to enjoy your meal. Have a tzedakah box on the table or on the wall, in the dining room, in the kitchen. In every situation and every way, at every opportunity—in happy times and, G-d forbid,

40:46 the opposite. At every opportunity, let’s make use of this. That is the importance of putting a coin in the tzedakah box. In the merit of tzedakah—for great is tzedakah, which brings the Geulah closer—may we merit to see the complete Geulah with Moshiach Tzidkeinu speedily in our days, amen.