The Rambam gives us beautiful insight into how to give Tzedakah. This is found in the Mishnah Torah Laws of Gifts to the Poor 10:7-14. Let's delve.

Level 8: The giver is pained by the act of giving
Who doesn't hate giving?! Known simply as Tzedakah, this is when you give charity. For instance, when somebody is in need, and you do a kind deed and give them money to help them out. When you take that money and give it, you feel a sharp pain in your shoulder, known as kindness.
This also known as dues.

Level 7: They give less than they should but does so cheerfully
Of course they're cheerful, they're barely giving anything. They're saving money on this.
This is when they come around with the Tzedakah box at shul and you put in a dollar. ​I've never seen anybody put more than a dollar into the Pushke box.

Level 6: Gives after being solicited
This is when you're stuck at a red light and a stranger knocks on your window. You're scared. To ward off the potential threat, you pull out a dollar and get them angrier.
This is also when a stranger comes to your front door. You give them money in fear they'll break in. Then they see you have a wallet and you end up giving more.
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Level 5: Donor gives without being solicited
This never happens. I've been on a member of congregations around the world. This has never happened.
The closest thing to this is when you get a calendar for Rosh Hashanah, and you feel bad that these people have been chasing you for eighteen years. So, you give them Chai dollars. Eighteen dollars of generousness. You feel you've done your job in helping purchase a house for the homeless children in Israel. 
If it ever does happen, if somebody donates from their heart, you'll find out. There will be a plaque.

Level 4: Recipient knows the donor but donor doesn't know recipient
You'll know who you gave it to when you get nasty looks at shul for being cheap.

Level 3: Donor knows the recipient but recipient doesn't know donor
You give money and you're constantly asking yourself why this guy can't get a job. And then they end up pledging two-hundred dollars for Maftir.

Level 2: Neither donor nor recipient knows the other
Somebody else is stealing this money.

Level 1: Donor gives recipient the wherewithal to be self-sustaining   
This is the highest level of charity, as you're not even giving charity. Hence, it's also the most beloved form of Tzedakah.
The greatest way to help somebody according to our rabbis is not to give them the fish, but to teach them how to fish. You give them an activity to get their mind of the fact that they're broke. Help them escape from their messed up lives for a few minutes with something to do. Maybe they'll forget they're hungry.

Nowhere does the Rambam say to give a lot of Tzedkah. He knows nobody will do that. Tithing is also not mentioned as a level here. He knows.
The greatest level, which the Rambam doesn't mention, is when there is a building put up with your name on it.

I've noticed these new food pantries on lawns. Boxes on poles, for people who need food. I have thoughts.
The food pantries are a great idea. Tzedaka is beautiful. Town food pantries have worked for years, but they were never on the lawn. On the front lawn is a perfect spot for people to pick up food on their way back from the grocery store. You forget some stuff and you check to see if your neighbor picked up an extra orange juice by accident. Beautiful.
Now, we deal with the issues, so we can better these pantries. Let me express this in rant form, so the truly feel my frustration and longing to help the poor.

What We Give Them is Wrong
It was a can of peas and carrots. Who likes peas and carrots? That's a good question my Talmid. Nobody. Nobody likes peas and carrots.
No hearts of palm. No pineapples. Poor people like cut-up pineapples. Everybody loves the juice. Nobody is drinking carrot and pea juice.
One pantry I passed had salt. Nothing but salt and paprika. Just spices and condiments. Not even a Proto streak. No rice. No microwave to heat up the peas and carrots. Just salt and paprika.
It was a Chutzpa. It was the winter and the sidewalk in front of their house was slippery. They were hoping the poor people would salt it. That's why they had Kosher salt in the pantry, with the extra-large granules.

I Didn't Know What It Was
I thought I was going to get a book. I saw the food pantry case on the lawn. I thought I was going to find Dr. Seuss. I wanted Green Eggs and Ham. Kosher ham. Instead, I end up reading ingredients of Green Peas and Carrots.

Give Real Food
I thought they would have a roast. I thought, at least microwave on the lawn for the hungry to cook a hot meal. I thought there might be a checkered cloth. You open the pantry and your family can have a picnic on a neighbor's lawn. Nope. No Protos. Spam? No. Just a can to feed the children.

It's a Setup
And it's not fair to these poor people. You put it on your front lawn. They think they're supposed to take some food, and the next thing they know, they're arraigned for trespassing. Disgusting. Not a Mitzvah. First you bait them and then you pop out of your home with a shotgun, yelling at the poor family, 'Put down the peas and carrots. That's our lawn. Get away from our storage pantry. We didn't have room in the kitchen to store the salt.'
And they didn't even have a can opener to fight back. It's all wrong.

This isn't Charity
If they don't get shot, the poor people are stuck bringing a can home for dinner, spending the rest of the day separating out peas. It's a task. No book to read. Just carrots and peas. And salt, to parch their throats. Malnourished with parched throats. Stuck with paprika and nothing to spice.
Sorry. I get very mad about paprika. And no can opener?! Put a can opener in there.

Homeless People Need Meals Not a Can
One person told me it's for snacks. Snacks? Are homeless people running around with a shopping cart full of bedding, coats and can openers, so they can get a little pick me up before dinner? And why is there no table?! Is the plan for homeless people to take the can home?

Ways to Practice Charity
If we're truly trying to feed the poor, we should have fridges and ovens on the front lawns. Front lawn kitchens. If I saw a fridge, at least I wouldn't expect to see Dr. Seuss. I would be a happier man. And I wouldn't be let down with poorly written paragraphs about sodium percentage dietary guidelines for daily intake.
The greatest way to help somebody according to our rabbis is teach them how to fish. Not to give them the fish. Which is why many people don't give Tzedaka but Mussar. They rebuke them and tell them to get a job, and you feel like you've done the Mitzvah of giving charity. You tell them to get a job, and then you give them a fishing rod, so they have something to do during their leisure time.
Self-sufficiency is the greatest form of Tzedaka. If we really wanted to help, we would have front lawn cooking lessons. We would have can opening seminars. If we truly wanted to help poor people, we'd teach them to build a food pantry. This way, they could have the food pantry where they live, and they wouldn't get shot for taking a can of peas and carrots.

All of those truly feeding those who are in need have my greatest respect. Keep it up. Even if it's a can.
​Next time, we shall delve into the issue of soup kitchens, and how poor people are starving because we're feeding them soup.

Don't come to the Beit HaMikdash on Chagim without a Karaban. You must show up with to the Temple with a sacrifice.
When you travel to your cousin's Bar Mitzvah, do you bring a gift? Exactly. And now you bring nothing to Gd?! Shame.
Bring a gift.

If we learned anything, be a decent guest. You're visiting Gd's house. Don't show up empty handed. Nowadays, people bring letters to the Kotel. That's not a gift. There's no Mitzvah for that. No host needs a postcard from a friend who's looking to get married, but can't go out of their way to visit.
Hosts want food. You show up to dinner with a dish. You show up with a note that says 'please forgive us for not bringing anything,' you're not getting invited back. Well, that's what you're doing at the Kotel. You're bringing a note that says something went wrong and you're sorry.
Nobody likes people who show up without a gift. You show up to the Temple with no meat, and then to top it all off, you don't have the first fruits basket. You're a Temple taker, and the Kohens are all starving and acting real smug.
I am not suggesting to have a barbecue at the Kotel. It's not the Temple.

Bringing nothing is a huge letdown to the hosts. I've been witness. 'Mark is here... Oh shoot. He brought nothing. He's just a letdown... I thought he makes a nice stew too... Nope. Nothing. Not even a gazpacho... I think he knows we invited him. He's here. We won't have him again. Come in Mark. Take off your shoes. Only people that bring a gift can leave their shoes on... I know we invited him, honey... Didn't he at least bring wine?! Nope. Nothing. Just here to eat. To live off the fat of the land. No appreciation... Wine and stew shows appreciation, Mark. We're having Matzah for dinner now.'

A sacrifice is a lot of meat. The problem is most people show up with dessert. There is no commandment to bring a babka. Anybody can afford that. It would be much better if people showed up with a nice roast. If you're eating at our home, bring a roast and you will have an excellent dinner.
Why people host that can't cook is a different story. And don't show up to my house with a broccoli lokshen kugel. A broccoli quiche is OK. If it's in lokshen form, it should be spinach. Spinach lokshen kugel is excellently tasty. I don't believe that is a commandment in the Torah, but it should be. It would make us happier. Spinach lokshen kugel and a roast. If you're eating at our home, we'll provide dessert. You provide the spinach lokshen, roast and wine.

If we've learned anything from this Mitzvah, never depend on the hosts to feed you.

Make your wife happy the first year.
After the first year, don't even try. It won't happen.
For one year you should make her happy. After that, you can be honest. Complaining about her cooking is suggested. After the first year, there is no reason you should be eating dried out corned beef anymore. Arguing about the kids after the first year of marriage is also tradition. You will want to blame her side of the family for anything that is off in the child.
For the first year you have to smile. After that, football games are the best way to spend your time. TV should be running all the time. Don't even try to make her happy after the first year. She married you. It won't happen.

The Pasuk teaches, (Devarim 24:5) ‘When a man takes a new wife, he shall not go to the army, and not obligate himself to anything. He shall be free for his home for one year, and he shall make is wife whom he has married happy.’
It's already enough to try make his new wife happy. We don't want to throw anything else on him, like war.
After the first year, get out of the house as fast as you can. Problems start after the first year. At that point, you should be hanging out with the boys. That's how you keep a marriage together.
After the first year, it’s better he goes to war. Usually, the wife insists, ‘Get out of the house and do something.' Many times they request the husband goes to the frontlines.
Once the fights start, that's your sign to get out. Enlist. War is preferable. It allows you more time out of the house. And there is less fighting in war.
Many fights have been caused by the 'not obligating himself to anything' part. Many husbands have used this as an excuse to relax for the year. Wives have used 'a good for nothing' to describe their husbands who keep this Mitzvah. 'He's a good for nothing.' Once she starts calling you a good for nothing and yells at you for not having a job, that's when you should go to war. Join a tank unit. It will be harder for her to find you there.

How many old wives does he have? That’s a question. That might be why this new one is mad at him.

The most important take away from our Mitzvah today is to not try to make your wife happy after the first year. That is too much already. And as we know, you can't ask somebody to keep a Mitzvah that's impossible to do.

It's a  Mitzvah to permanently place a Mezuzah. As it says (Devarim 6:9, 11:20), ‘And you shall write on the doorposts of the house.’
This Mitzvah caused much anger amongst the parents pf the Jewish people. Their kids learn this Mitzvah at school, and they come home and destroy the house. They hear to write on the doorposts and they can't wait to get home.
I can't tell you how many times I've heard parents reprimanding their children, 'You’re killing the door. What are you doing?!... Go to your room and don't write on it.' To which the educated child responds, 'The Torah says…' And then the kid is taken out of Jewish day school and sent to public school. It happens time and time again.

At first they thought their kids were using erasable whiteboard markers. Who would command anybody to ruin a beautiful doorway?! When they found out the kids  were using Sharpies, all Gehenim broke loose. Parents were outraged. 'How can H' give such a commandment?! It's enough that we measure the kid's height on the doorpost once a year.' It turns out that measuring a child's height is not a Mitzvah in the Torah. Even so, many doors have marked growth of children.
Once a child reaches Mezuzah height, tradition is to stop marking the doorpost.

This misunderstanding of the Mitzvah by elementary school kids and art teachers is why the Mezuzah box was created. A box to hold the words of the Torah that are permanently affixed to the door. This way the kids can do their art on that and don't kill the doorposts. So many ancient homes in the Ottoman Empire were destroyed by Jewish children and their graffiti.
To this day mothers have to yell at their kids, 'No. Don't write on the wall. Here. Decorate the box...' Sometimes they even give them a little slab of wood to draw on, so that the kids can be creative on a future Chanukiah. Since the Mezuzah fiascos of permanent poor outwork on lintels, we have developed many festival art opportunities for holidays. They create Sukkot decorations, Purim masks, Pesach Seder plates. Now kids force us to hang their artwork, as commanded by the Torah, destroying the Sukkah.
Next time, we will talk about how people have misunderstood the Mitzvah of Hiddur, beautifying the Sukkah with the artwork of third graders. We will also discuss ways in which to throw out the pathetic art the kids bring home from school.

The Rambam teaches that to do Teshuva (repentance) correctly, you must confess (Viduy) and say 'I will never do it again.' We learn from here that the most important part of repentance is to lie.

Rambam Hilchot Teshuva 1:1 To do proper Teshuva, you must do Viduy which consists of ‘Please H’, I have sinned by accident, I have sinned purposefully, I have sinned in defiance, before You. And I did such and such. And I regret and am embarrassed by my deeds. And I will never return to this again.’
Hence lying is the essence of Teshuva. You have to lie to God with sincerity. ‘H’. I feel so bad for having a good time. I will never do it again… Or at least until after Sukkot, when You stop judging us.’

This guy seems to have done every sin imaginable. The real question is, what is 'such and such'?
'Such and such' is a long list. It usually starts with eating chocolate. Chocolate seems to be the biggest sin people are worried about. That's why you hear about vows of not eating chocolate again when it comes to New Years. 
Other such and suches are 'I had the best burger of my life at Wendy's.' 'I watched too many series and didn't learn enough Torah.' 'People needed me and I enjoyed myself instead.'
I've got to be honest. If somebody every tells me they did such and such, our relationship is over. Nobody does such and such to me and gets away with it. It's rude.

Have you ever heard anybody regret something and not do it again? No. People always eat chocolate again. 
The statement my congregants should make is, ‘It will never happen again till Sukkot, when I forget about it.’ Or 'I would've never said that if I wasn't worried that I would be written in the book of death.' Or 'It's my rabbi's fault. I blame him for everything.'

I pray for all that you will be able to celebrate full repentance, and stick to your lies, so you don't end up in Gehenim. And those lies should have you written in the book of life, enjoying chocolate.