Many Jews are familiar with the tale of Maimonides, the legendary rabbi from the 1200s who postulated the idea of a hierarchy of giving in the Jewish religion. Maimonides’ Ladder of Tzedakah states that the most honorable type of charity is a business partnership with the poor, while the second most is a donation that is given and received anonymously.
This idea of anonymous charity being more encouraged than charity in which people are named has stuck with Jewish people for the hundreds of years since. In fact, tzedakah given today is often given anonymously, Rabbi Rachel Sabath of Har Sinai-Oheb Shalom Congregation in Baltimore.
“The idea of giving anonymously has existed throughout Jewish history. People want to remain anonymous for both major and small gifts,” she said.
Sabath recalled a story of a generous congregant that exemplifies the high value some Jews place on anonymity.
“A major donor in our community gave a million dollars to a particular project, and to this day, not even his children know that he did that,” she said. “I was told recently that once he had given money to [a different] institution and he insisted on being anonymous. But, the institution inscribed ‘anonymous’ on the building, and he took issue with that, because he thought it was like being named.”
Some recipients prefer the donations to be anonymous, too.
Godfrey Molen is the founder and executive director of Friendly Loving Opportunities, a nonprofit organization based in Baltimore that focuses on at-risk communities such as minorities and people experiencing homelessness. He said his organization has been able to operate thus far without a large anonymous donation, but that obtaining one is still a goal of his.
“We haven’t been blessed yet to get one of those huge donations, but I can see why those who do give would want to remain anonymous,” he said. “Some nonprofits can be aggressive. They keep calling and requesting funds. It’s like winning the lottery — you don’t want everyone to know.”
Obtaining funding is tricky in a city that has a lot of causes to benefit and a host of organizations vying to do so.
Chrissy Thornton is the president and CEO of Associated Black Charities in Baltimore, a longtime staple of the local nonprofit community that works on behalf of the city’s vibrant Black community. She said that anonymous donations to the organization are rare, but when they do come in, it usually means something important: that they are very large.
“That’s when we have the blessing of getting higher-level donations,” she said.
Thornton added that an anonymous donation is still almost always not anonymous internally. Most of the time, the decision revolves around public knowledge of the act, so the donor is not as concerned about the staff or administration of the charity knowing who they are.
Kim Callari is the executive director of The Baltimore Station, which works with homeless veterans recovering from chronic substance abuse and other mental and behavioral health challenges. She said that only about 1% of the organization’s donations are anonymous.
However, it is not unheard of. Recently, there was even a donor who wanted the ultimate level of anonymity.
“We actually received a sizable donation this year from a person who wanted to remain anonymous publicly and internally too. They said that they just wanted to give the money without acknowledgement or publicity — they just believed in the mission,” she said. “So it’s tough sometimes because you might get a big donation and want to run around and tell everyone, but you can’t.”
Rabbi Ari Goldstein of Temple Beth Shalom in Arnold, said that, in his experience, real-world practicalities are more of a motivation for anonymous giving than adherence to Jewish tradition.
“I don’t want to speak for [other] communities, but in our community, typically, anonymous donors are not inspired by Jewish tradition,” he said. “I think everyone has their reasons, and they could very well be ethics that are consistent with Judaism but aren’t necessarily.”
Sabath said that it really just comes down to what the occasion is.
“If it’s something to celebrate that person or that family, we will celebrate it. But in the case of tzedakah to those you don’t know or someone that might be embarrassed by it, I think keeping it anonymous is really important,” he said.
Thornton said that she thinks one reason that anonymous giving happens is because often when people give, the reason is personal. She said that those who donate to a breast cancer charity may have had a relative who suffered from the disease. Those who donate to substance abuse counseling might have a loved one who struggles with addiction. For that reason, a person might be more motivated by the cause than the publicity they would get for donating.
She added that a reality of fundraising and part of the appeal of remaining anonymous is the existence of databases used by nonprofits to identify potential donors.
“I’m not fond of using people’s public record of giving to put them in positions for solicitation. A lot of us use donor management software and systems that tell you if a person gave and who they gave to and their net worth and assets,” she said. “Even though I’m a fundraiser, I don’t really believe in that methodology, because I think it exploits people’s generosity — but it is something that most nonprofits use to target and grow their individual gifts.”
Molen said that most of the funds at FLO come from small community donations and sales from the organization’s thrift store. He said that it is tough to rely on grants, as there is a lot of competition and limited funds. That — or a large donation — would change the makeup of his organization.
“It’s tough,” he said. “You just have to persevere and keep working and one of these days you’ll be fortunate enough to hit one of those lotteries.”
Thornton said that the funding models of many nonprofits around the country changed dramatically since the COVID-19 pandemic started in 2020.
“Most organizations started to struggle as people live with the reality of having less disposable income,” she said.
She added, however, that the most important thing to this day has not changed despite the fact that many people have less to give. Above all else, devotion matters, and that is still present in spades.
“I’ve learned over my years in doing this that capacity [to donate] doesn’t matter as much as passion for the cause,” Thornton said.
She said that, regardless of what kind of donation an organization is seeking, the messaging is the same.
“If it’s a corporation that cares deeply about equity or civil rights, we can demonstrate to them how we could fulfill that in a partnership with them. We seek to transfer that same model to our individual givers,” Thornton said. “We are concerned with making sure that we can communicate the impact that our organization has on causes that really matter to people — how it directly impacts your life and the life of people you love and care about.”
For each of these organizations — and their peers — what matters is not just that they do this work, but that they do it in Baltimore. Thornton said that there is so much potential here to be a model for other communities across the country.
“Baltimore is so asset-rich, we believe that if we get this right in Baltimore, that it will translate to helping communities in other major market cities as well,” she said.
Whether one is giving anonymously or in name, whether that donation was inspired by Maimonides or Pericles, what matters is that they give. Rabbis and nonprofit executives alike can agree on that.
“However someone feels that they can give, that is fulfilling the mitzvah of tzedakah,” Sabath said.
