The act of giving is a relatively simple thing. When you give you are simply transferring something that was once yours to someone else. It is entirely possible to give angrily, happily, begrudgingly, indifferently, or thoughtfully. Generosity, on the other hand is a different matter. Generosity has a component of mindfulness and “heartfulness” that goes beyond the physical act of giving.

One of my favorite jokes is a story of a group of scientists who, convinced that they don’t need God anymore, proceed to attempt to prove it by making a human being out of the dirt (like he made the first). They do quite well and God decides to let them know how nice of a job they did but, to be fair, if they really wanted to prove they didn’t need him anymore they should get their own dirt!

Travel always provides lots of opportunities for practicing the middot—standing in a TSA security line is ideal for developing patience; staying strapped into a narrow seat on a crowded plane is perfect for equanimity; and there are boundless opportunities for humility. On my latest trip I had a chance to learn about the middah of generosity.

I am increasingly aware that time is one of the most valuable things in my life. There is so much to do and so little time, as the saying goes. My chevruta and I have often discussed the role of time in the middah of generosity.

When people think of generosity, they usually think of gift giving, especially during the winter holidays. The focus is on what you give and what you get.

The Sages interpret the unusual Hebrew word me’odecha in the Shema (Deut. 6:5), translated "might" above, to mean “substance,” “resources,” or even “wealth”—which gives us a perfect text for the middah of generosity. We express our whole-hearted love for Hashem by practicing generosity toward others.

Our society has a somewhat dysfunctional approach towards generosity at this time of year. By and large the expectation is that if you receive a “holiday” gift from another, you’re obligated to reciprocate.

Similar is generosity, which is the middle between stinginess and wasteful extravagance.

While we try hard to give to those who really need it, we try not to turn anyone away. Feeding people means having an attitude of generosity towards the people we help. I encourage everyone, in their giving, to be as generous as they can be. It helps others, and is good for your soul.

In Devarim 15:7, it begins with "be warm-hearted and openhanded to our brethren." From this, our people have had a longstanding tradition and connection in the giving of tzedakah. The Torah admonishes us to give whatever is lacking to the person in need and give wholeheartedly.

The words of Yaakov against the rich of his day are powerful and condemning. What is critical to understand is that it is not just the fact that the rich have so much, it is that what they have is at the expense of others. They stored up the payment for their workers for themselves instead.