Gratitude Ii
Humans are capable of saying thank you without even thinking what it means. Indeed, humans suffer from cognitive dissonance. The cure is to think what thank you” really means.
Modeh Ani
A Jew begins his or her day with Modeh Ani to express gratitude to the Almighty for having restored our soul to us. This is but the first of numerous prayers and blessings recited throughout the day in which we express gratitude for each and every aspect of G-d’s kindness to us. When we take care of our biological needs we thank G-d for the incredible, wondrous, and intricate workings of the human body. We thank G-d for the rooster that wakes us up in the morning, and we thank Him for the gift of life itself. There is nothing major or minor that escapes our attention.
Missing?
If gratitude—or hakaros hatov as it is called in Hebrew—is so pervasive in our Jewish lives, we would have expected to find this imperative mentioned explicitly in the Torah as a commandment.
But search far and wide; there is no explicit statement in the first four books of the Torah that orders us to thank G- d. The closest we get to this Mitzvah is in the fifth book of Devarim-Deuteronomy. In the beginning of this week’s parsha, Ki Savo, we are commanded to bring our first fruits—Bikkurim—to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and express gratitude for the Exodus from Egypt to the Land of Milk and Honey and for the first fruits that we bring to the Temple.
In truth, there is one other place where the Torah commands us to express gratitude to G-d. But this commandment—to thank G-d for the food we eat—is also first mentioned in the Book of Deuteronomy.
One could ask the obvious question: Why does the Torah wait until the last of the five books—the Book of Devarim (Deuteronomy)—to inform us of the obligation to show gratitude to G-d?
It is true that the Torah has previously indicated where the lack of gratitude incurred G-d’s anger. The first example is when Adam blamed his wife for his sin, thus displaying a lack of gratitude for the gift of a wife. Likewise, the Jewish people incurred G-d’s anger when they complained about the Manna from heaven. We also find many references to individuals, as well as the Jewish nation as a whole, who thanked G-d. But one would have expected to have the Torah teach us the importance of gratitude directly by way of a Biblical commandment.
The Anatomy of Gratitude
The answer to this question is that really there is no need for the Torah to command us specifically to show gratitude because that is the underlying ethos of the entire Torah. There is no need for a specific statement to command us to be thankful, for this is what pervades all of the Mitzvos.
To understand this point we must first define the anatomy of gratitude. Saying thank you is not just a social nicety; it is what underlies a human being’s ability to know his or her place in the cosmos.
When a person shows gratitude they are acknowledging that there is someone or something else “out there” that exists and upon whom he or she depends. It is our way of showing that we have graduated from the infantile obsession with self. It is the most rudimentary form of recognition of the other.
It is no wonder that the Hebrew root for thanks “hoda’ah” is the same as for the words “submission” and “concession.” It is our way of declaring that the world does not revolve around us, that there is a G-d and other people with whom we share this world.
Thankful to Whom?
One of the expressions that some find irritating is, the phrase, “I am thankful.” It is annoying because there is no “filling in the blank” by stating to whom the gratitude is directed.
The whole point of expressing gratitude to G-d or to others—who are G-d’s messengers in “delivering the goods”—is to acknowledge that there is something or someone beyond us to whom we pay homage. By leaving out the object of our gratitude—although to be fair it might just be shorthand for the phrase “thankful to G-d”— we have not made that leap from self-absorption to the acknowledgement of the other.
We can now appreciate how the entire body of Torah literature conditions us to be grateful. The Torah and its commandments are in their entirety about acknowledging and respecting the existence of G-d and of others. Wherever we look, the Torah focuses on the other. No one can seriously adhere to the Torah’s commandments and believe that the universe revolves around him or her.
Why the Need for a Commandment?
The question now reverses itself. If the need for gratitude underlies all of the Torah, why was it necessary for the Torah in the last book of Devarim to specifically address this issue and command us to express gratitude for the first fruits and for the consumption of food?
The answer to this question relates to the new phase that the Jewish people were entering into. In place of the miraculous liberation from Egypt and the continuation of the miracles in the desert, the Jewish nation was about to enter the Promised Land, (seemingly) changing their status to a natural order. Once we get into the routine of life— even in the Holy Land prior to the final Redemption—we can observe the Torah’s commands and be oblivious to its underlying message of surrender of self to a Higher entity.
This is especially true in the period of Galus/exile—which Moses constantly alluded to in his exhortation to the Jews that were to enter the Promised Land. In exile we can take the most sublime spiritual experiences and turn them inside out. One can, for example, perform the selfless act of tzedakah/charity thinking only about one’s own goodness and righteousness and acting condescendingly towards the recipient and others. In this all too common scenario the object of the Mitzvah becomes the giver and not the recipient.
This phenomenon of engaging in an act that expresses a mindset even as the actor is obsessed with the opposite mindset is a psychological condition called “cognitive dissonance.” In Hebrew the term for this malady is Galus. Literally, it refers to the geographic alienation of the Jewish people from their homeland. Metaphorically and spiritually, it refers to alienation from your own positive behavior. You can do good and yet your mind can be in foreign territory.
Moses, therefore, provides future generations—including the ones in exile—with a more direct approach to gratitude. Some people cannot get the hint from all of the Torah’s commandments to be grateful to G-d and to sincerely acknowledging the existence of others. They have to be told clearly and directly.
Don’t be an Ingrate!
Moreover, for the Galus tainted mind one has to begin with the first step. One has to be told first to not be ungrateful, even if it means just paying lip service to gratitude.
With this premise we can understand how Rashi—the principal Torah commentator—describes the underlying sentiment of gratitude of the Jew who brings his first fruits. On the introductory words “and you shall say to him” Rashi observes: “that you are not an ingrate.” It is remarkable that instead of accentuating the positive—to be grateful—Rashi chooses the negative, “that you are not an ingrate.” Is that the extent of the Mitzvah of bringing first fruits just to not be an ingrate?
There is a parallel to this negative way of making a point in the Mitzvah of loving your fellow as yourself. The Talmud recounts how a prospective convert came to Hillel and asked to be taught the entire Torah while standing on one foot, Hillel replied with the legendary words, “What is hateful to you don’t do to your fellow.” Here too Hillel did not mention the Biblical commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself”, phrased affirmatively, but, rather, chose the negative way of phrasing it, “what is hateful to you don’t do to your fellow.”
The simple reason Hillel chose to phrase the admonition to love one’s fellow in the negative form was so as not impose the highest standards for the prospective convert at that time. This convert, Hillel understood, was incapable of digesting such a lofty ideal as feeling the love for another as much as much as one loves oneself.
Analogously, when someone is making his or her first step towards developing a healthy appreciation for others—of growing out of the selfish, infantile mindset—he or she must take incremental, baby steps. One must begin with not being ungrateful. Little by little we begin to develop the skill of “going out of ourselves.”
Modern Day-Miracles
Based on the above analysis of gratitude, it is no wonder that our Sages tell us that in the future Messianic Age the only private offering we will still bring to the Temple will be a Todah/Thanksgiving offering. It is only in the Messianic Age when all the forms of dissonance will cease—including cognitive dissonance—and that then we will be fully capable of expressing the highest and sincerest form of gratitude.
One way of preparing for the ultimate Todah/Thanksgiving offering is to condition ourselves to give thanks to G-d for all of His abundant blessings as well as expressing gratitude to all those who contribute to our own well-being.
In this spirit, the Rebbe also encouraged us to recount the modern day miracles that we as individuals and as a people are experiencing. This exercise is one that elicits and exhibits our awareness of and appreciation for these miracles, which are a prelude to the future Redemption. Both the miracles themselves and our expression of gratitude for them pave the way for the ultimate miracle and era of gratitude—the final and complete Redemption through our righteous Moshiach!
From the book Light from the Future: Parshas Ki Savo by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.
