Fundraising can be a disheartening endeavor, regardless of the organization or individual for which one is working. The esteem which we accord the fundraiser is commensurate with the individual’s own level of self respect. One can view his undertaking as an opportunity to enable another Jew to share in the spiritual reward reserved for those who demonstrate strength of character – to overcome that “little voice” that finds every excuse to urge them not to give tzedakah. If he succeeds in adopting this perspective, he will approach his mission in a positive light.
There is a story told about the Netziv who sent out two meshulachim, fundraisers, to raise funds in order to sustain the famous Volozhiner Yeshiva. These were talmidei chachamim, erudite scholars, who were proficient in Torah, spending every moment of their free time engrossed in Torah study. We can then well imagine the level of enthusiasm they exhibited for their task at hand. While he was complaining, one meshulach presented an excellent idea. They would purchase a lottery ticket on behalf of the Yeshivah and pray to Hashem that it would win. The same Providence that decrees that wealthy people should contribute to a worthy cause would also respond to their prayers on behalf of the Yeshivah.
They decided to buy the ticket bearing the number 2118. One meshulach went to purchase a ticket, while his partner went to the Beis Medrash to pray for a successful drawing. There was, however, one problem. The first man–who had suggested the idea–decided to change their original choice of number. He concluded that since the number 2117 is the numerical value of “ach tov” – “only good” – it would be a more favorable number to buy.
As can be imagined, the tefillah of the second meshulach effected a positive Heavenly response, and number 2118 won. The two men returned to the Netziv, terribly dejected over their apparent lack of success. The Rosh Hayeshivah decided to give these hapless fundraisers a lesson in the essential attitude for fundraising. First, why does Hashem make it that difficult for their Yeshivah, or any Yeshivah, to receive its sustenance. After all, the Almighty provides for all things, each in accordance with their individual needs. Surely He could provide for the citadels that prepare and shape the spiritual climate of each generation. We are what our Yeshivos are. Why does He not make support easier for them?
The Netziv’s compelling answer goes to the very heart of the mitzvah of tzeddakah. True, Hashem could have made it easy, but how would other Jews who do not attend or connect with a Yeshivah share in the mitzvah of limud haTorah, or elevate themselves through the mitzvah of gemillus chesed? How could the Jew in the small town, far away from the beaten path, share with other Jews in fulfilling their communal responsibilities, if not through the vehicle of the meshulach, or in contemporary times, “direct mail”? If finances were to be easy for the Yeshivos, a large segment of the Jewish population would, by default, be denied the privilege of maintaining a partnership in Torah with the scholars who are involved in Torah study. In other words, if one merits, he will contribute. If he does not merit, he will find excuses to refrain from contributing to any worthy cause.