Reflecting and Looking Ahead: The Days of Repentance and Jewish Philanthropy

We are now in the thick of the Ten Days of Repentance, the time between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. As we reflect on years past and years to come, we occupy a liminal space between looking back and looking forward, looking inward and looking outward, remembering those who have come before us and envisioning a future for our children. I remember Rosh Hashanah dinner at home and Yom Kippur break-fast (and gossip) at the Frieds’ house. I remember my father donned in a white kittel, the long (almost messianic) shofar protruding from under his tallit during the Rosh Hashanah Musaf service. I remember that the machzor of my youth, in striving for a full alphabetical English version of the Ashamnu, admonished us against xenophobia (whatever five year old me thought that might have been). And I remember Max Adler’s gentle but haunting voice leading the shacharit service at my suburban Conservative synagogue.

More recently, I remember holding the other end of a twelve-foot string as my wife and I measured the distance between pods of chairs in our backyard in 2020. And I will always remember seeing my daughter leading the community in V’ye’etayu after watching the older kids from the sidelines in the several years prior.

Part of the challenge on the High Holidays is in holding space for tradition - the “traditional” Kol Nidrei melody is said to date back over a thousand years - while also creating space for new traditions and contemporary resonance. And sometimes the two merge into one. (I’m not sure I would have guessed that this version of Ya’aleh Koleinu was released some five years ago.)

A little over seven years ago, I started working full-time in the Jewish community. In that time, my work life and my personal life have dovetailed, harmonized, clashed, and harmonized again. Each year, I sit in Yom Kippur services and consider how my Jewish values affect my work, and I reflect on whether I conduct myself and my work in a way that honors the humility and responsibility that each of us must hold. What do I regret? What can I do better? To what goals must I commit myself in the year ahead?

It seems that each year, there are new sets of “Al Chet” and/or Viddui confessionals offered for contemplation. Often driven by current events, they might reflect on our part in combating climate change or political polarization, on our addiction to our phones and social media, on our commitment to the State and People of Israel. Some professions and roles may have their own set of reflections to meditate on the year that has passed and to think about how to improve in the year to come.

To that end, I offer one more to that mix. What can we, in the Jewish philanthropic ecosystem, commit to doing better in the year to come? The traditional liturgy reminds us that “repentance, and prayer, and tzedakah can annul the severity of the decree” issued against us for our failing in the prior year. But not all tzedakah is good tzedakah. As foundation professionals, we are agents in helping to make the best use of others’ resources. And that can be done effectively or ineffectively, with humility or with enormous ego, with ambitious goals or with unrealistic expectations. How have we done our work well, and where have we failed to live up to the task?

To be sure, those in the philanthropic sector are used to navigating tensions. In some ways, we are used to flattery – being told we are funny, smart, and good looking. In others, we are always at fault, arrogant, and abusive of power. It can be tempting to be dismissive of these perceptions (for good and ill), or to put too much stock in them. But to be successful in our holy work, we need to develop reflective practices from the inside, in the service of self-improvement. Our roles are too important for us not to be the best we can be at them.

In the style of the traditional vidui and al chet, the following reflection is written in the plural/collective, both because none of us is infallible and because our accountability is communal and collective, even as we take personal responsibility for our actions. The framing is not one of “sin,” but honors the etymology of the term “chet,” which likely refers to “missing a target,” rather than to character flaws or malicious intent. It is not meant to be exhaustive, but rather (like most liturgy) is meant to provide an opportunity for reflection and a jumping-off point for further consideration.

Shanah Tovah Tikateivu V’Teichateimu - may we all be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life for a good, sweet, better year ahead. 

An “Al Chet” for Jewish Philanthropy 

We Have Missed the Mark…

By demanding too much of those receiving our support;
And by expecting too little of them.

By being irresponsible stewards of others’ resources; 
And by being stingy.

By being unfeeling in our giving decisions;
And by letting our emotions get the better of us.

By being distracted by the most immediate needs;
And by ignoring them in favor of a grand vision.

By seeking too often to find fault;
And by seeking only to validate our decisions and assumptions.

By leading some people on;
And by failing to give others a chance to make their case.

By focusing too much on cultivating relationships for personal gain; 
And by overlooking the human element of our work. 

We Have Missed the Mark…

By allowing inertia to prevent us from real reflection and creativity; 
And by being fickle or rushing to judgment. 

By spending excessive time on research and learning without taking action;
And by relying only on impressions and predispositions.

By not learning from previous initiatives and mistakes; 
And by being unwilling to try again where similar efforts haven’t worked before.

By not holding leaders responsible for their conduct;
And by being unforgiving of human fallibility.

By instinctively thinking we always know better;
And by being too deferential where we can bring value.

By allowing our personal interests to distract us from those for whom we work;
And for using our work as an excuse to forgo service in our personal lives.

By taking credit for others’ successes;
And by refusing to take responsibility for our own failures and mistakes.

We Have Missed the Mark…

By seeing ourselves as separate and “better than;”
And by forgetting the nature of our particular role.

By refusing to lead when we must;
And by failing to make space for others.

By failing to see what is;
And by failing to imagine what could be.

By excessive reliance on others’ work;
And by unnecessary duplication of efforts.

By being unreceptive to being told when we’re wrong;
And by being too hard on others when they make mistakes,

We Have Missed the Mark…

By ingratiating ourselves to those in positions of influence;
And by forgetting to whom we owe responsibility.

By being unwilling to take risks;
And by overlooking the long-standing supporters of our communities in favor of the “new for the sake of new.”

By supporting only proven “winners”;
And by perpetuating work that ought not to continue.

By surrounding ourselves with those who only agree with us;
And by failing to be clear in our values and expectations.

By suffering from a lack of focus; 
And by focusing so much we miss the broader picture.

By giving only to our friends;
And by refusing to support those with whom we stand in special relationships because they fall outside our typical strategies.

By seeing tzedakah as an unfeeling business transaction; 
And by being unsophisticated in our giving decisions, in favor of emotional resonance.

By sharing our abundant resources irresponsibly;
And by failing to be sufficiently generous in our giving.

By abusing our power; 
And by failing to take seriously the tremendous responsibilities that our roles entail.

For all these things, we ask for patience and forgiveness and we all strive to do our best, now and in the year ahead.

I am grateful to those who have commented on iterations of this idea, and in particular to Felicia Herman and Jon Marker for their thoughtful comments and questions.

Doron Kenter is Director of North American Grantmaking at Maimonides Fund.