The Jewish people are not only named after the ancient Kingdom of Judea, the ancestral homeland of today’s Jews. The word Jew, or Yehudi in Hebrew, comes from the word hodaah, which means to acknowledge and express gratitude. The essence of Judaism is thus poignantly expressed in this word.
In the Torah, Jacob’s son Judah (Yehudah in Hebrew) was so named by his mother as an expression of her thanks to G‑d for the overwhelming kindness bestowed upon her in the form of the many children with whom she was graced.1 The Talmud2 points out that this was the first time G‑d was ever thanked verbally in the Torah! The name Yehudah, and by extension Yehudim (Jews), is therefore understood to encapsulate this spiritual quality of articulated praise.
Acknowledging the good things we have in our lives is not always easy. We are prone to taking things for granted. In fact, there is a phenomenon psychologists call “hedonic adaptation” that causes us to very quickly assimilate and forget the blessings we receive in life. Scientists explain3 that the reason for this is that sidelining that which doesn’t require our immediate attention helps keep us focused on the challenges we need to overcome in the moment. If we had to continuously pay attention to the myriad of things functioning smoothly in our mind and body at any given moment, we simply wouldn’t be alert enough to respond to the urgent necessities and imminent dangers we may encounter.
One of the less helpful side effects of this “adaptation,” however, is that it empties our awareness of all of the things for which we ought to be grateful. Hedonic adaptation is therefore what drives us to take our blessings for granted and focus instead on what we are missing rather than feeling grateful for what we have.
Repudiating this tendency of mindless reception is a defining feature of Judaism. Indeed, this attitude of gratitude was a defining characteristic of the first Jew, Abraham, who was determined to renounce what was then the pervading paradigm of his time—to accept the existence of the universe as a matter of course. Instead of taking reality for granted, Abraham searched for and discovered the one Almighty G‑d responsible for creating and sustaining the universe, and Whom we are therefore obliged to acknowledge and thank.4
So essential was this quality of thankful acknowledgment to Abraham in his approach to spiritual education that, according to the Talmud,5 he would invite people into his tent for sumptuous meals and lively conversation in order to then pose the question: From where does such abundance come? When, through discussion, Abraham revealed that G‑d was the source of all life and sustenance, many of those present were moved to recite blessings of gratitude for the food they had just eaten.
Feeling and expressing gratitude for our blessings is a way of actively acknowledging G‑d’s presence in every area of our lives. Instead of relegating G‑d to the realm of the abstract and ceremonial, we encounter Him and experience His kindness with every breath and bite of food we take. This is the essence of Judaism—to actively acknowledge G‑d in every dimension and moment of our lives.
In the realm of human relationships, such an attitude of gratitude is expressed in the principle of hakarat hatov, which means to show recognition for good. In fact, cultivating such gratitude is so fundamental to Judaism that those who lack it are barred from entering into the Jewish nation.
In Deuteronomy,6 we are told that No Ammonite or Moabite shall be admitted into the congregation of the L‑rd, none of their descendants, even to the tenth generation…. As a point of contrast, even the Egyptians, who brutally enslaved the Jewish people for hundreds of years, are not sentenced to the same fate of eternal exclusion. Why are Egyptian converts admitted to the faith of Abraham, albeit after a couple of generations, whereas the Ammonites and Moabites are not?
The answer is that the Ammonites and Moabites, descendants of Abraham’s orphaned nephew Lot, refused to provide food and water to the Jews in the wilderness even though they knew that Abraham had adopted, raised, and even waged a war on their ancestor’s behalf.
Nachmanides7 explains that after learning about the great lengths Abraham went to care for and save the life of their ancestor, Lot, the Ammonites and Moabites should have shown at least some degree of gratitude to the Jewish people and repaid them in kind. Since they lacked this most basic Jewish trait, they were barred admission to the Jewish nation forever.
It is important to note that in the present day, since we do not know who has descended from the nations of Amon and Moab, no one is excluded from converting to Judaism on account of their hereditary background.8
But, on a characterological level, the point is well taken—so essential is this fundamental quality of gratitude that one is incapable of living a truly Jewish life without it.
In fact, hakarat hatov is the very rationale behind the Egyptians being granted admittance into the Jewish nation despite having enslaved and oppressed the Israelites for many years! As the Torah teaches: You shall not despise an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land.9
Incredibly, even those who brutalized us for an extended period of time are still worthy of our gratitude for the good they did for us, no matter how incomplete and deeply flawed. For instance, they took us in during a famine and gave us a section of lush land to live in and to pasture our animals.10 This contains a profound lesson—namely, that it is incumbent upon us to show gratitude for the good that people have done for us, even if they have also caused us harm.
More than just advocating the importance of gratitude in the abstract, as a beautiful idea and ideal, Judaism offers a rigorous program to help transform the natural human tendency towards entitlement into a cultivated lifestyle of active and articulated appreciation.
Indeed, much of Judaism is a practical system designed to sensitize us to the wondrous workings in our lives and in the world. From our food to our families to our biological processes and physical abilities (including even going to the bathroom) to the intricate workings of nature to our miraculous history and higher cognitive faculties—there is literally no end to the things for which we can be thankful. In fact, the Sages teach11 that we should each strive to say at least one hundred blessings each day! This is a testament to the high level of sensitivity and gratitude Judaism inspires us to achieve.
For example, one powerful practice instituted by our Sages to inculcate such gratitude is the recital of morning blessings,12 actively thanking G‑d for some of our most basic biological functions, which we so often take for granted.
Additionally, Jewish liturgy in general is full of dozens of prayers and blessings for us to express our acknowledgment and thanks to G‑d, the source of all that we have and are.
One particularly poignant blessing that serves as the cornerstone of our consciousness each day is Modeh Ani,13 a twelve-word affirmation of gratitude that we recite immediately upon awakening. While still in bed, before we do anything else, we thank G‑d simply for the gift of life itself, and for a new day on this precious earth. The prayer reads: “I give thanks to You, living and eternal King, for You have compassionately restored my soul within me, abundant is Your faithfulness [in me]!” This humble prayer, said at the opening of every day, is a perfect expression of what it means to be a Jew—alive and awake to G‑d’s infinite presence and blessings in every moment and facet of our lives.
In our lifetime, we receive so much more than we can ever possibly earn or give. When we make an honest accounting of how much is owed to us compared to how much we owe, this changes our perspective from one of privilege to one of purpose, from hubris to humility.
Such an awareness of our infinite blessings transforms one’s entire life into a veritable song of praise and thanksgiving, allowing us to join the symphony of creation in good faith and harmony.
The opposite of entitlement is not gratitude but cultivating an awareness of our blessings; with awareness of our blessings, gratitude comes automatically.
The great mussar teacher R. Eliyahu Lopian, affectionately known as Reb Elyah, was once talking to a student after prayers while folding his tallit. The tallit was large and had to be partially placed on a bench in order to be folded properly. After Reb Elyah finished folding it, he noticed that the bench was dusty and went to fetch a towel to wipe it off. The student to whom he was speaking realized what Reb Elyah was doing and ran to get the towel for him. Reb Elyah held up his hand. “No! No! I must clean it myself, because I must show my gratitude to the bench upon which I folded my tallit.”14
A similar story about hakarat hatov is told about the great Chasidic master R. Menachem Mendel of Kotzk. Whenever he would replace a pair of worn-out shoes, he would neatly wrap the old ones in newspaper before placing them in the garbage, declaring, “How can I simply toss away such fine shoes that have served me so well these past years!?”
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