Extra-Communal Philanthropy – Forbidden, Permitted, or Mandated?

Mikey Lebrett

The Orthodox community, lauded for the tremendous volume and scope of its charitable giving, is sometimes criticized for its parochialism.^[1] Some will have little trouble shrugging off such criticism; indeed, there is ample philosophical and ethical justification for prioritizing the needs of one’s family and community.^[2] Others, however, embedded in wider society and exposed to world events as they occur, are challenged. What is our philanthropic responsibility to non-Jewish people and causes, at home and further afield? What does halakhah have to say about directing charitable funds outside of the community? In this article, we will consider whether extra-communal philanthropy is halakhically permitted at all, and if so, whether it possesses the status of heter – a permitted activity, or hiyyuv – a mandated activity.

The Issur of Lo Tehonneim
A significant inhibitor to carefree universalism among Torah observant Jews is the prohibition of lo tehonneim, derived from Devarim 7:2: “Hashem will deliver them before you and you will defeat them…you shall not seal a covenant with them nor show them favor (lo tehonneim).” The Gemara in Avodah Zarah 20a teaches that the final phrase in this pasuk bans Jews from providing free gifts (matnat hinam) to non-Jews, among other prohibitions such as not giving them space to dwell in the Land of Israel or wantonly praising them.

Many authorities, including Tosafot and Beit Yosef, view the prohibition of lo tehonneim as applicable to all non-Jews in every era. Indeed, Shulhan Arukh in Yoreh Dei’ah 151:11 rules: “It is forbidden to give free gifts to an idol worshipper whom you are not acquainted with.” Taz identifies the source of this ruling as lo tehonneim, and explains that if you were acquainted with the non-Jew, the prohibition would not apply, as you expect to receive goodwill in return. It would seem from here that providing charitable funds to non-Jews, particularly those who do not have a personal relationship with the giver, would be a blatant violation of the prohibition of lo tehonneim.

The Heter of Darkhei Shalom
The Gemara in Gittin 61a states:

Our Rabbis taught: We provide for the non-Jewish poor with Israel’s poor (mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim im aniyei Yisrael), we visit the non-Jewish sick with Israel’s sick, and we bury the non-Jewish dead with Israel’s dead, due to the ways of peace (darkhei shalom).

How are we to understand this teaching in light of its clear contradiction to the prohibition of lo tehonneim?

One school of thought seeks to limit the implications of Gittin 61a. Rashi specifies that while one might think that it is instructing us to bury non-Jewish corpses in the same graves as Jewish corpses, it is in fact only instructing us to bury a non-Jewish corpse if it is found amongst Jewish corpses. The word ‘with’ refers to finding the corpses in the same physical location; it does not refer to the need to bury the non-Jewish corpse in the same graves as Jewish corpses.

Rashba clarifies Rashi’s position and affirms that according to Rashi, one would not bury a non-Jewish corpse if one found it without the accompaniment of Jewish corpses. Bah (Yoreh Dei’ah 151:20) extends Rashi’s reading to apply to the other examples in the gemara; one would only support non-Jewish poor and visit non-Jewish sick if they are amongst a Jewish population.

The basis for Rashi’s position is explained by Rashba. Rashi understands the concept of darkhei shalom to be intrinsically linked with the concept of mi-shum eivah (because of hate). The most notable usage of mi-shum eivah, which appears in a variety of halakhic contexts, is that, in certain cases, an action which would ordinarily only be performed for a fellow Jew is either permitted or mandated towards non-Jews in order to prevent the festering of antisemitic sentiments. For example, it is ordinarily forbidden to provide medical or midwifery services to non-Jews. However, if there is a concern that this will cause hatred towards Jews, it is permitted (see Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Avodah Zarah 10:2 and 9:16, as well as Kitzur Shulhan Arukh 189:4). Rashi’s position of only aiding non-Jews if they are found amongst Jews is congruent with his equating darkhei shalom and mi-shum eivah. The only reason to aid non-Jews is to prevent a rise in antisemitism. Therefore, one only needs to bury a non-Jewish corpse or give charity to the non-Jewish poor if there is a risk of one’s discriminatory behavior being pointed out and noticed by the non-Jewish population. Similarly, Ramban (Bava Metzi’a 78b) explicitly equates mi-shum eivah and darkhei shalom in the context of justifying the widespread custom to provide non-Jewish poor with charity on Purim.

The language of ‘mutar’ used by Shulhan Arukh in his formulation of this halakhah, which immediately follows the halakhah of lo tehonneim referenced above, lends itself to a reading consistent with Rashi’s view:

It is permitted to provide for non-Jewish poor… due to the ways of peace. (Yoreh Dei’ah 151:12)

Within this approach, the conflict between the prohibition of lo tehonneim and the clear statement in Gittin instructing extra-communal philanthropy is resolved by severely limiting the scope of the mitzvah. Darkhei shalom is exactly equivalent to mi-shum eivah; thus, providing support to non-Jews is permitted, not mandated, and only in situations where withholding such support would result in antisemitism.

The Hiyyuv of Darkhei Shalom
There is an alternative, more universalist, approach to defining the nature of darkhei shalom.^[3] Rambam in Mishneh Torah presents the following halakhah:

Even for non-Jews – our sages commanded us to visit their sick, to bury their dead with the dead of the Jews, and to give sustenance to their needy among the needy of the Jews – due to the ways of peace. As it is said (Tehilim 145:9): “Hashem is good with all and he is merciful upon all of his works,” and it says (Mishlei 3:17): “Its ways are ways of pleasantness and all its paths are peace.” (Melakhim u-Milhamot 10:12)

By appending the concept of darkhei shalom to pesukim (verses) from Tanakh, Rambam may be indicating that darkhei shalom is an independent value, rather than equivalent to mi-shum eivah. If darkhei shalom is simply a tool to prevent antisemitism, what relevance do the pesukim have? The implication is that just as Hashem is good and merciful with all His creations, so too we, empowered by the principle of darkhei shalom, should mirror this.

This distinction between darkhei shalom and mi-shum eivah is strengthened by the fact that Rambam does apply the concept of mi-shum eivah in various scenarios,^[4] and yet does not do so here. Therefore, it is logical to conclude that Rambam views the two concepts as categorically distinct.

The pasuk from Tehilim quoted above is mentioned by Rambam elsewhere in Mishneh Torah:

Cruelty and arrogance are only found among idol worshippers, but the descendants of Avraham Avinu (i.e., Bnei Yisrael), to whom Hashem has granted the goodness of Torah and commanded with righteous laws and statutes, are merciful to all. Similarly, regarding the attributes of Hashem which we are commanded to emulate, it is written (Tehilim 145:9) “His mercy is upon all of His works.” And whoever shows mercy unto others will have mercy shown to him. As it says (Devarim 13:18): “He will show you mercy, and be merciful upon you and multiply you.” (Avadim 9:8)

Rambam links the pasuk he used in his explanation of darkhei shalom to one of the fundamental values within Judaism, emulating God. Moreover, Rambam applies the concept of emulating God specifically to actions associated with being compassionate and merciful to all his creations.^[5] We see that the concept of darkhei shalom can be understood in an expansive fashion, serving as a mandate, rather than a post-facto allowance.

Only a couple of pages earlier, the Gemara in Gittin 59b had emphasised the centrality of the concept of darkhei shalom. The Mishnah (59a) states that the basis for the requirement to call a kohein to the Torah before a levi is darkhei shalom. Different Amoraim give Torah sources for the rule that the kohein is called first. Abaye challenges these suggestions, pointing out to Rav Yosef that if this requirement is de-oraita (Torah mandated), there is no reason to attribute it to the rabbinic concept of darkhei shalom. Rav Yosef responds that the requirement is both de-oraita and due to darkhei shalom. The Gemara then states: “… The whole Torah is due to the ways of peace, as it says: ‘Its ways are ways of pleasantness and all its paths are peace.’”

While it is important to note that this gemara is not discussing darkhei shalom in the context of providing charity to non-Jews, the fact that it concludes in a similar fashion to Rambam, asserting the intrinsic and central value of darkhei shalom in the context of the whole Torah, remains instructive. The pasuk quoted in the Gemara in support of its assertion is the same as the second pasuk which Rambam quoted in relation to darkhei shalom in the context of compassion to all of God’s creations.

Rashba asserts, unlike Rashi, that by using the word ‘im’ (with), the Gemara is not limiting the requirement of assisting non-Jews to a situation in which the non-Jewish population is interspersed amongst the Jewish population. Rather, he reads ‘with’ in an inclusive sense, as equivalent to the word “ke-sheim” (just as). Rashba does not mention mi-shum eivah in his own interpretation at all. He points out that Yerushalmi in Gittin, unlike Bavli, does not employ the word ‘im,’ simply stating: “Support the poor of the Jews and the poor of the non-Jews…” Furthermore, the Tosefta wholly dispenses with any mention of Jews, simply stating: “Eulogize the dead of the non-Jews and comfort their mourners due to the ways of peace.”^[6]

In his comments on the halakhah in Shulhan Arukh (Yoreh Dei’ah 151:15) regarding the permissibility of providing for non-Jews, Ba’eir Heitev states that this obligation applies even without the presence of a Jewish population. Ba’eir Heitev elicits the support of both Taz and Bah. Bah (Yoreh Dei’ah 151:20:1) writes that one is obligated to support non-Jewish poor, whether they are amongst a Jewish population or not. He brings support from the Tosefta, Yerushalmi, Tur, Rosh and Ran (who goes so far as claiming that Rashi is not being intentionally limiting and would agree that one should bury non-Jewish corpses if found alone). Bah concludes: “Tosafot implies that, even without Jewish poor, it is befitting to support non-Jewish poor, as this is the way of peace…and this is our practice.” This would seem to be congruent with the approach of Rambam and Rashba. Arukh Ha-Shulhan (Yoreh Dei’ah 151) also states that there is an obligation to provide charitable support to non-Jewish people, whether they are amongst Jews or not.

While it is possible to interpret these sources as a technical discussion expanding the application of mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim more broadly without changing the fundamental principle equating it to mi-shum eivah, it could also be argued that they support the view that darkhei shalom is an intrinsic principle, in line with the hiyyuv approach presented here. Rabbi Isser Yehuda Unterman, previous Ashkenazi chief rabbi of Israel, wrote:

Lately, to our great detriment, it has become customary amongst our teachers to state that there is no real obligation towards bettering the life of non-Jews… and there is no need to encourage the community to support non-Jews with tzedakah and kindness, for any such acts are only done for the sake of darkhei shalom [ways of peace] and thus have no real source in the Torah law. Therefore, we must define the true concept of darkhei shalom. It is not just a means to keep Judaism safe from non-Jewish hatred, but flows from the core ethical teachings of the Torah.” (Shevet Mi-Yehuda 3:70)

It is clear that R. Unterman explicitly supports the universalist understanding of darkhei shalom.

Darkhei Shalom in Conflict with Lo Tehonneim
Within this reading of Rambam, how can the integrity of the issur of lo tehonneim be maintained while also interpreting darkhei shalom as a moral calling? How can the Rishonim mandate charitable giving even in a situation where there is no Jewish population? This seems to be a gold standard violation of lo tehonneim!

One approach is to severely limit the application of lo tehonneim. Rashba and Sefer Ha-Hinukh write that this prohibition only applies to bone fide idol worshippers. Taz states, drawing support from the Tosefta, that it is permitted to give free gifts to a non-Jewish neighbor or friend. It is not considered to be for free, because the donor expects recompense in the future. Tur and Rambam write that the prohibition does not apply to a geir toshav (a non-Jew who has accepted the seven Noahide laws).^[7] Perhaps most famously, in a discussion regarding whether one is obligated to return a lost item to a non-Jew, Meiri writes:^[8]

… We are not obligated to act in a pious fashion [over and above the letter of the law] for a Godless people. However, any person belonging to a nation disciplined by religion, who worships God in any fashion – even if their religion is very different from ours – is not in the above category. Indeed, they are considered entirely like a Jew in all of these matters – in respect to lost items, financial errors, or to anything else – no distinction should be made.^[9] (Meiri, Bava Kama 113b, s.v. “nimtza”)

According to Meiri, there is no prohibition of lo tehonneim with regard to the majority of non-Jewish nations in existence today. Therefore, the conflict between lo tehonneim and darkhei shalom falls away.

Is it possible to reconcile these two principles according to the authorities who apply lo  tehonneim more extensively?

Tosafot in Avodah Zarah (20a, s.v. “Rabi Yehuda”) asks: “Why is there no prohibition of lo  tehonneim in the activity of mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim?” Tosafot answers that when something is being done due to darkhei shalom, it is not considered a matnat hinam (free gift). Within the particularist approach to darkhei shalom, this Tosafot is easily understandable. Money given for darkhei shalom purposes is not considered a free gift; the giver expects a reduction in antisemitism in return. Therefore, even according to the opinions that lo tehonneim applies extensively, provisions of this kind do not fall under the prohibition.

Is there a way to understand this Tosafot according to the universalist approach?

Penei Yosef (Rabbi Yosef Rien, Bnei Brak, 1986) explains that Tosafot is stating that mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim is not considered a free gift, not because one expects a reduction of anti-Semitism in return, but rather because there is no risk of the gift resulting in the issues that lo tehonneim is intended to prevent. The reasoning behind the prohibition of lo tehonneim is to inhibit too much kinship and social cohesion between Jews and their non-Jewish neighbors, which could result in a lowering of standards of behavior and absorbing non-desirable traits and activities (see Rambam, Avodah Zarah 10:4 and Sefer Ha-Hinukh 426). Providing charity to someone, Penei Yosef argues, does not increase kinship. In fact, it can create a social hierarchy and a feeling of embarrassment or disgrace on the part of the recipient. Therefore, lo tehonneim does not apply in this situation and does not come into conflict with darkhei shalom, even according to the Rishonim (including Tosafot) who hold that lo tehonneim is not limited to bone fide idol worshippers. The fact that Tosafot states that darkhei shalom results in no prohibition of matnat hinam, rather than stating that the prohibition exists but that darkhei shalom results in a heter, supports this understanding.

Three Challenges to the Universalist Reading of Rambam

Bah’s Characterization of Rambam
Bah points out an inconsistency in Rambam’s language in relation to these halakhot. Rambam states the laws of comforting non-Jewish mourners and burying non-Jewish dead without any qualification. However, in reference to the laws of providing non-Jewish poor with financial support, Rambam states that we must support them “bi-khlal”(included with) the poor of Israel. Bah asserts that this additional word implies that Rambam would only mandate the provision of financial support to non-Jews when they are amongst the Jewish population.

If this inference is correct, it seriously challenges the thesis that Rambam holds that darkhei shalom is an intrinsic principle. If it were, there should be no difference between the halakhot of providing support in a financial or non-financial sense. Additionally, it should not make a difference whether the population is mixed or not!

However, it is possible to suggest that Rambam is indeed able to maintain a belief in darkhei shalom as an intrinsic principle while also mandating a difference in halakhah between financial and non-financial support. After summarizing the dispute between Rashi and Rashba presented above, Hatam Sofer (Gittin 61a) writes: “This all applies to charity, for when one gives to a non-Jew, [that money] will be withheld from a Jew. Therefore, [the sages] were not concerned with darkhei shalom if they are not in a Jewish population. However, with regard to visiting their sick and burying their dead, where there is no resultant loss to a Jew, we do concern ourselves with darkhei shalom, even when the non-Jew is alone…” The principle introduced here, which may also be applied to Rambam, is that while there is an important value of darkhei shalom to uphold, we must be pragmatic. If there is only a limited pot of money available, fellow community members should be prioritized. Non-financial care, which does not drain finite resources, can be provided to all people, at all times, without discrimination.

Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, who proudly supported the universalist approach to darkhei shalom (see footnote 5), also expresses concerns about communal priorities, in line with Hatam Sofer:

“Nevertheless, given our present situation, I see no alternative to turning inward. The combination of rising assimilation and declining power mandates increased concern for specifically Jewish needs – spiritual, physical, and emotional. Despite the best humanitarian intention, we cannot escape the pressure of priority. ‘Many are thy people’s needs, and their wit is limited,’ intones the piyyut, and this aptly describes our current situation… At the same time, we should make an educational effort to contain the insidious effects of creeping insularity. The notion, altogether too prevalent in some circles (albeit, perhaps not those likely to read this paper), that the concerns or even the suffering of mere goyim are irrelevant to us cannot be countenanced.” (Leaves of Faith 2, chapter 10).^[10] 

We see that concerns about the limited nature of communal funds does not ipso facto imply an intrinsically particularist approach to darkhei shalom.

Rabbi Asher Weiss’ Alternative Reading of Rambam
Rabbi Asher Weiss, in a recorded shiur, also challenges the universalist interpretation of Rambam.^[11] After initially presenting the approach that differentiates mi-shum eivah from darkhei shalom in Rambam, he rejects this, asserting that even Rambam views these concepts as roughly synonymous.

R. Weiss advances two main arguments. First, he points out that the concept of darkhei shalom is applied in many cases, not only regarding Jewish relations with non-Jews, but also in navigating intra-communal issues, such as the order of who is called up to the Torah, priorities in burial, and who gets to keep the eiruv in their house. The reasoning for the principle is to promote harmony and prevent strife, largely parallel to the concept of mi-shum eivah. He argues that there is no reason to differentiate between darkhei shalom when it is applied in halakhah to Jewish populations vs. non-Jewish populations; both are pragmatic, with the aim of ‘keeping the peace.’ While R. Weiss makes technical distinctions between mi-shum eivah and darkhei shalom, either regarding the severity of the strife each are seeking to prevent, or the specific type of rabbinic legal instrument being employed (heter vs. takanah), he argues that neither should be perceived as as anything more than an instrument to promote a cohesive society.

The strength of this challenge is unclear to me. After all, even if one defines the purpose of darkhei shalom as a method to prevent strife, this doesn’t automatically relegate it to the level of pragmatism. The pesukim Rambam quotes talk of mercy and peace as being identifying features of God’s actions and His Torah; perhaps reducing strife and increasing fraternity, whether among Jews or non-Jews, is indeed an intrinsic value desired by God.^[12]

In his second argument, R. Weiss points out that Rambam mentions the concept of darkhei shalom in several places in Mishneh Torah (e.g.,. Avodah Zarah, Matnat Aniyim, Tefilah), but only provides the key textual reinforcement in the quoted passage from Melakhim u-Milhamot. Furthermore, in Melakhim u-Milhamot, the topic of mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim mi-penei darkhei shalom and the accompanying pesukim are presented in a highly tangential fashion, following a seemingly unrelated series of laws regarding court cases involving Jewish and non-Jewish plaintiffs. If Rambam really held that this is a fundamental Torah principle, R. Weiss argues, we would expect him to present it prominently and consistently across the corpus. While he does not examine in detail any particular instance where one would expect Rambam to present darkhei shalom as a fundamental principle, we will examine one potential example in the following section.

A Contradiction in Rambam?
Rambam in Avodah Zarah (10:5) teaches several laws relating to mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim, such as not disturbing non-Jewish poor if they gather the agricultural gleanings set aside for charity and extending greetings to non-Jews when encountering them in the street. He prefaces this set of laws by identifying the operative concept as darkhei shalom, but (as highlighted by R. Weiss) does not quote the pesukim as he does in Melakhim u-Milhamot. In the following halakhah, Rambam states:

All these things are said specifically in a time when Israel is exiled amongst the idolaters or when the idolaters have overpowered Israel. But in a time when Israel is sovereign, it is forbidden to permit idolaters to settle therein. For even if one of them merely desires to sojourn or pass from place to place with merchandise, he must not pass through the Land of Israel before he obligates himself to live up to the seven Noahide commandments, even as it is said: “They shall not dwell in thy land lest they make thee sin against Me” (Shemot 23:33)—not even dwell therein temporarily. If an idolator obligated himself to observe the seven Noahide laws, he is considered a sojourning alien (geir toshav). A geir toshav can only be accepted in an era when the Jubilee year (yoveil) is observed…^[13] (Avodah Zarah 10:6)

While, Rambam strongly implies, in Melakhim u-Milhamot, that philanthropic activities to the general non-Jewish population would appear to be an intrinsic ethical principle, in Avodah Zarah he severely limits the application of mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim. Moreover, Rambam’s stipulation that this only applies when Jews are subjugated to non-Jewish rule is reminiscent of mi-shum eivah-style pragmatic considerations, aiming to reduce antisemitism and project a positive image of the Jewish community to its neighbors. If Rambam believes that darkhei shalom is an intrinsic ethical principle, why should it not apply when Jews are sovereign in the Land of Israel? Surely it should be as, if not more, applicable when we are the masters of our own destiny and can express our principles to their fullest?

Perhaps we can suggest that, while Rambam does consider darkhei shalom to be an ethical principle, he must also contend with competing principles. We have already presented approaches to allow the values of darkhei shalom and lo tehonneim to coexist. We are now introduced to a new principle: “They shall not dwell in thy land (lo yeishevu be-artzekha) lest they make thee sin against Me” (Shemot 23:33). We are commanded to exercise extreme selectivity over who can cohabit with us in the Land of Israel, in order to prevent negative influences leading to spiritual downfall. It is possible to conceive of a framework in which the ethical underpinnings of darkhei shalom continue to operate, while the parallel but unrelated concern of lo yeishevu prevents the technical application of mefarnesim aniyei nochri. Put another way, there is certainly an obligation to provide charitable support to non-Jews, but there simply isn’t an opportunity to do so in a Jewish sovereign state in which it is forbidden for idol worshipers to dwell. Had Rambam lived today, in an era in which the Jewish people are sovereign in the Land and are able to extend their philanthropy outwards (both as individuals and on the state level) without compromising on citizenship criteria (lo yeishevu), would he encourage this form of philanthropy as an expression of darkhei shalom?

The Influence of Historical Context on Halakhic Interpretation
After our examination of the sugya, it seems that sufficient halakhic justification can be found to read the key sources in either a particularist or universalist fashion. Nonetheless, it would be dishonest to present both approaches as equally favored by the majority of historical and contemporary poskim. Certainly the universalist thesis appears to be the hiddush in the sweep of Jewish history. This has the potential to cause a level of discomfort; is this approach simply a child born of the liberal-universalist milieu that characterised the latter part of the 20th century and the start of the 21st?

Rabbi Jacob J. Schacter, in his extensive article “Tikkun Olam: Defining the Jewish Obligation,” addresses the notable absence of universalist principles in the majority of the halakhic canon:

It seems clear that the silence in the Talmud and subsequent Rabbinic literature does not reflect a principled objection to the values here being discussed but is rather the product of historically grounded mitigating circumstances… The fact is that the big world out there has not been good to the Jews… Can there be any wonder then, that the genuine sense of obligation to the welfare of society was not high on the list of the national, communal, or personal priorities of previous Jewish generations?

R. Schacter continues by quoting the Israeli poet Uri Zvi Greenberg, in an excerpt that has taken on additional weight since the events of October 7th, 2023, and subsequent resurgence of worldwide antisemitism: “Between us and the nations of the world lie the slaughtered of our family…” R. Schacter’s overall argument is that it is of no surprise that universalist principles did not receive much airtime in the tragic sweep of Jewish history. However, this does not reflect a true absence of such values in the sources. When societal pressures ease, Jews are able to look beyond immediate concerns of survival, allowing them to reconnect with the universalist principles that always lay dormant, waiting to be activated.

Professor David Berger, in his article “Jews, Gentiles, and the Modern Egalitarian Ethos: Some Tentative Thoughts,” also addresses this absence in our classical sources. He asks: “If we choose to follow a minority position, or even carve out a new variant of that position, because we feel a powerful moral imperative to do so, are we not running the risk of suggesting that the majority of great Jewish authorities through the ages suffered from a severe moral failing?”

After initially presenting a theme similar to R. Schacter’s, emphasising the significant oppression and discrimination faced by our ancestors at non-Jewish hands, he crystallizes the implications for the modern Jew:

There is a fundamental point that halakhah is ultimately rooted in the word of God. With varying degrees of success, we all set aside moral qualms with respect to absolutely unambiguous divine directives that appear problematic to us. In the context of authentic Judaism, submission to the divine will is paramount, and the suppression of some humane instincts in the face of clear-cut halakhah may be necessary. To ascribe moral failings to the Rabbinic authorities of an oppressed people for failure to reinterpret the straightforward meaning of sacred texts discriminating against their persecutors is inappropriate, unfair, insensitive, and incorrect. But this does not mean that we must suppress our own moral instincts when we honestly see them as consistent with, even generated by, the values and teachings of the Torah writ large. We have ‘al mi lismoch’ [on whom to rely], and our religiously informed ethical instincts have a role to play as we examine text and tradition to reach a conception of our relationship to non-Jews that will honor the universal mission assigned to the children of Abraham.^[14]

Not all will be comfortable with the historical contextualisation of the halakhic statements of Rishonim and Aharonim. Nevertheless, this approach of Rabbis Schacter and Berger provides an elegant compromise for today’s Jew who feels reverence for the halakhic system as well as an internal sense that God calls on us to spread goodness and compassion well beyond our local environment. Permission is given to integrate our moral sensibilities into our halakhic practice without unfavorably judging our predecessors (or even co-religionists) in doing so.^[15]

A Question of Application
Now that we have presented two approaches to darkhei shalom, we are left with the challenge of how to apply these principles in our philanthropic activities. Those who follow Rashi and Shulhan Arukh, and interpret darkhei shalom pragmatically, should presumably donate to non-Jewish individuals and causes if they are personally approached, especially if the petitioner is someone they know personally and/or they live in a community consisting of both Jews and non-Jews. I believe that this remains the mainstream approach in much of the Orthodox world. In a Halacha Headlines podcast episode on the topic of Jewish relations with non-Jews, the terms darkhei shalom and mi-shum eivah were used wholly interchangeably throughout. Similarly, Rabbi Avrohom Chaim Feuer, writing in the The Tzedakah Treasury (p. 406ff; ArtScroll Mesorah Publications), quotes Rabbi Pesach Feinhandler as saying that while the obligation of charity money to non-Jews can be deducted from ma’aseir kesafim (monetary tithing), it is only if the non-Jew proactively asks for aid.^[16] Rabbi Eliezer Melamed similarly rules that giving charity to non-Jews is only done with the intention of achieving peace or kiddush Hashem (sanctification of God’s name), and should not be done in absence of these outcomes. He adds the caveat that if the non-Jew is a righteous gentile he should be provided for, but that Jewish poor are prioritized.

Outside of Israel, one could suggest that even within the particularist approach, there may be value in more widespread, proactive philanthropy, if it creates a general awareness in society that Jews are productive and constructive members of society. Within Israel, more homogenous communities may reduce organic opportunities for individuals to action with regard to mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim^[17]; subscribers to the particularist approach will not lament this reality, although we could perhaps wonder if there would again be a pragmatic advantage for Jews, or indeed the Jewish state as a whole, to be known for philanthropic activities in worldwide public and political opinion.

Explicit halakhic guidance regarding how to conduct philanthropic activity for those who subscribe to the more universalist approach is extremely limited. Presumably, followers of this approach would respond to appeals from non-Jewish individuals and causes generously, with a more positive kavanah (intentionality) to those in the particularist camp. Perhaps non-Jewish causes would be proactively integrated into charitable portfolios and legacies (without waiting for an appeal), and there would be little reason to limit donations only to causes in the local area or charities operating in a community of mixed populations. Questions regarding exact allocation of resources remain: What proportion of individual and communal funds should be directed outwards? Do the concerns of Hatam Sofer and Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein relating to the limited supply of Jewish charitable funds apply today, in a period of unprecedented communal prosperity? How do we balance supporting the ‘growth’ needs of our own community (e.g., supporting private educational institutions, donating new Sifrei Torah, facilitating high-end medical care for community members etc.) with the ‘deficiency’ needs of other communities (e.g., providing food, water, shelter, and basic medical care), particularly considering the differing impacts a single dollar can have when applied in each case? Apart from financial support, are there opportunities and initiatives available for people to action the other extra-communal darkhei shalom activities listed in the sources, e.g., visiting the sick, burying the dead, and comforting mourners? On a national level, perhaps the State of Israel’s proclivity to dispatch international humanitarian missions after natural disasters fulfills these requirements, but how many individuals will find opportunities to perform these mitzvot in their personal lives?

These and many other practical questions remain unanswered, leaving Jews who feel an affinity for the universalist approach with little practical halakhic guidance on the appropriate way to act in their philanthropic activities. I believe there to be a significant ‘gap in the market’ for rabbanim and poskim who identify (or lead communities that identify) with the approach of Rabbis Soloveitchik, Unterman, and Lichtenstein, to begin a process of fleshing out these issues beyond the philosophical underpinnings, providing their congregants and followers with practical advice on how to most optimally manage their funds and time to actualize their ideal of darkhei shalom.

With thanks to Moshe Steinberg for his assistance on an earlier draft of this article.

^[1] For example: “… 83 per cent of those who identify as religiously Jewish (as opposed to “somewhat religious”) prioritise Jewish or Israel charities, that falls to just 22 per cent for the secular,” Reported in The Jewish Chronicle, (Institute for Jewish Policy Research (JPR) (Nov 2016) and: “Jews by religion are far more likely than Jews of no religion to say they made a donation to a Jewish charity in the past year (61% vs. 11%),” “Jewish Americans in 2020,” Pew Research Center (May 11, 2021).

^[2] See Carol Giligan’s ethics of care and Nel Noddings’ relational ethics. Conversely, Peter Singer and others argue that charitable funds should always seek to achieve the most measurable good, even at the expense of the needs of one’s family and community (known as ‘effective altruism’). It is difficult to square the philosophy behind effective altruism and the priorities and values relating to tzedakah laid out in halakhah, although attempts have been made. See https://eaforjews.org/

^[3] I have been unable to identify the original formulator of this approach, which is outlined extensively in Rabbi Jacob J. Schacter’s “Tikkun Olam: Defining the Jewish Obligation.” I have seen it quoted in the name of Rabbi Ahron Soloveichik (referencing his sefer Od Yisrael Yosef Beni Hai and alluded to in a letter he authored on behalf of the Jewish Fund for Justice) and in the name of Rabbi Walter Wurzburger (referencing Ethics of Responsibility: Pluralistic Approaches to Covenantal Ethics). It has also been quoted in the name of Rabbi Dovid Zvi Hoffman (here and here), although I have been unsuccessful in finding a specific primary reference. 

^[4] See Rambam, Hilkhot Avodah Zarah 10:2 and 9:16.

^[5] This understanding that Rambam’s use of these pesukim is an indicator of a Jew’s fundamental ethical responsibility is supported by Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein: “For committed Orthodox Jews…our polestar is, rather, Rambam’s invocation of the divine order as an implicit norm, in the spirit of “ve-halakhta bi-drakhav,” imitatio Dei [imitating the ways of God], informing our actions and perceptions: For it is stated, ‘God is good to all, and His mercy extends to all His works’ (Psalms 145:9) and it is stated, ‘Its ways are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths are peace’ (Proverbs 3:17)… The underlying premise is that matan Torah and concomitant election of [K]nesset Israel were intended to superimpose a higher level of obligation, rooted in newly acquired identity, but not to supersede prior commitment, grounded in pre-existing, universal identity.” “Jewish Philanthropy – Whither?” Tradition 42, no.4 (Winter 2009): 7-32.

^[6] It is interesting to note that the Tosefta does not include providing charitable support. See Hatam Sofer on Gittin 61a, quoted later in this article.

^[7] Bah claims that there was censorship applied to this Tur.

^[8] There have been claims (led by Hatam Sofer) that this Meiri is a forgery or was written under duress. However, there are a considerable number of authorities who either cite this Meiri as authoritative or state a similar principle. See Alan Brill’s Judaism and Other Religions – Models of Understanding (Palgrave Macmillan; 2010) for an examination of the sociological shift in recent years towards a less forgiving approach to Meiri.

^[9] See Professor David Berger’s “Jews, Gentiles and the Modern Egalitarian Ethos: Some Tentative Thoughts,” in M. D. Stern, (ed.), Formulating Responses in an Egalitarian Age (Rowman and Littlefield, 2005), 83-108 for an extensive study of this Meiri and its halakhic and hashkafic ramifications.

^[10] Also see Rabbi Lichtenstein’s “The Duties of the Heart and Response to Suffering” in Leaves of Faith: The World of Jewish Living (Jersey City, NJ: KTAV Publishing House, 1999), 59.

^[11] See Rabbi Asher Weiss, “Darchei Shalom,” Minchas Asher.

^[12] Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein alludes to this point (and may even extend it to include mi-shum eivah) in his article “The Human and Social Factor in Halakha” Tradition 36 (2002) 89-114.

^[13] A geir toshav would not fall under the category of mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim and would be treated identically to Jewish citizens of Israel (see Melakhim u-Milhamot 10:12). Ra’avad and Kesef Mishneh strongly disagree with Rambam that yoveil is a requirement for accepting geirei toshav. Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog employed these positions to argue that Muslims and Christians living in the State of Israel today do have the status of geirei toshav. An in depth examination of this issue is beyond the scope of this article. Readers are directed here for further discussion.

^[14] Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik expresses similar sentiments in Abraham’s Journey, (Ktav, 2008), 203: “The universal problems faced by humanity are also faced by the Jew. Famine, disease, war, oppression, materialism, atheism, permissiveness, pollution of the environment – all of these are problems which history has imposed not only on the general community but also on the covenantal community. We have no right to tell mankind that these problems are exclusively theirs. God has charged man with the task of fighting evil, of subduing the destructive forces of nature and transforming them into constructive forces. The Jew is a member of humanity. God’s command to ‘be fruitful and multiply; fill the land and conquer it, dominate the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and every beast that walks the land’ (Gen. 1:28) is addressed equally to non-Jew and Jew. As human beings, Jews are duty bound to contribute to the general welfare regardless of the treatment accorded them by society.”

^[15] Perhaps this outlook can also help individuals who find themselves internally oscillating between universalist and particularist sympathies. For example, a generally ‘universalist’ leaning person may have experienced a contraction of focus after encountering the pain of October 7th and resurgence in societal antisemitism since then; they may have consciously or unconsciously begun prioritizing Jewish and Israeli causes at the expense of extra-communal causes. Conversely, someone brought up in a ‘particularist’ educational environment may find themselves without an adequate religious framework to accommodate very real feelings of empathy and compassion when they encounter tragedy, poverty, and crisis amongst non-Jewish people. Recognizing that both approaches exist within our tradition, individuals can draw on either framework based on the particular circumstances they find themselves in, offering a way to navigate shifting priorities without sacrificing integrity.

^[16] I have not seen discussion of the exact amount of money to give in such cases. Presumably within the particularist approach, the advice would be to give the minimum amount considered respectable (and therefore achieve a reduction in eivah), but no more than this. I am also intrigued as to how Jewish communal charities respond to calls for assistance from non-Jews; famously, Hatzalah will respond to calls for medical assistance from non-Jews (even on Shabbat), ostensibly for reasons of mi-shum eivah. In correspondence, one very large poverty alleviation charity in Israel confirmed that they do support non-Jewish communities alongside Jewish ones (although this is not widely publicized). I do not know if this is accepted protocol among other Jewish social welfare and poverty alleviation charities in Israel and abroad.

^[17] Rabbi Nachum Rabinovich ruled that at least part of one’s bitu’ah le’umi (national insurance) payments, which are used by the State to maintain the social welfare system and support the poor and sick, can be defined as tzedakah and factored into ma’aseir kesafim calculations. Seeing as bitua’h le’umi benefits all citizens of Israel irrespective of religion, perhaps this could be viewed as a fulfilment of mefarnesim aniyei nokhrim.. Or, would this be considered providing for geirei toshav (which is obligatory anyway, see footnote 13), or, conversely,  forbidden due to lo yeishevu?