Gratitude with an Attitude (Shemot 5774)

The Torah portion this week has many memorable features - a Pharaoh who knew not Joseph enslaving the ancient Israelites; the birth, rescue, and development of Moses; the burning bush to name just three. But my memory about this portion is rooted in the fact this was my Bar Mitzvah Torah reading more than 44 years ago. Most of my memories from that day are sweet (like my grandmothers’ and aunts’ effusive pride and lemon squares) or nourishing (like my sister’s and parents’ encouragement). But one memory is difficult, still I am grateful for it.  

Unlike thousands of bar mitzvah or bat mitzvah students before me and after me, I did not publicly thank my parents during the service. My ‘bar mitzvah speech’ focused on my interpretation of the Torah text, but did not thank my parents for all they had done to bring me to that amazing moment. 

Looking back on that day, I remain baffled and unable to explain why. I should have thought of it on my own; even though my parents and teachers never mentioned it. Was I trying to seem cool? Or was I too embarrassed to say ‘thank you’? Did I think it was unrelated to the words of Torah I was trying to explain? Looking back, it was so uncool and so embarrassing not to say ‘thank you.’ Ironically, turning back to parshat Shemot this week the theme of gratitude jumps out at me. 

The Jewish value of gratitude is expressed by the Hebrew term, “hakarat hatov” (lit. recognizing or calling out the good [that someone has done for us]). Gratitude depends on not only appreciating what others do for us, but also actively remembering what others have done for our benefit. 

This week’s portion begins with a bald denial of appreciation, “there arose a new Pharaoh who knew not Joseph.” (Exodus 1:8) The commentators wonder how even a new sovereign over Egypt could be ignorant of all that Joseph did to protect and sustain that country from famine. Rashi (12th century) suggests the new Pharaoh knew of Joseph -- how could he not!?! -- still he acted as if he was unaware of what Joseph had done for Egypt. In other words, the new Pharaoh was not ignorant, he was an ingrate.

Because the Jewish value of appreciation is rooted in the Hebrew word for good, there is another verse pointing to gratitude this week. When Moses is born his mother sees that he is “ki tov - good!” (Ex. 2:2) Presumably, all parents feel this when seeing their newborn; still, it is a rare declaration in Torah. The motherly declaration here after giving birth echoes to the divine declaration after giving “birth” to the world in the story of creation when the term “tov” is used frequently to describe each aspect of creation. 

For many, the parent:child relationship is at the center of gratitude. The anonymous 13th century author of Sefer HaChinuch (Book of Education) idealizes “one who acknowledges and treats with lovingkindness the parent who treated him/her with ‘goodness.’” Chinuch continues one “should not be a scoundrel, an ingrate, who turns a cold shoulder . . . [Rather, it] is for a person to realize that his/her father and mother are the cause of his/her being in the world; hence proper for him/her to give [parents] honor and every benefit.” (Sefer HaChinuch 33:1). The creative, sustaining, and encouraging foundations of parenthood are the basis of “goodness” and appreciation that flows from it. 

If all of humanity acted this way naturally, then there would be no need for Torah and rabbinic encouragement for gratitude. The fact is, however, as demonstrated by my own behavior 44 years ago, human nature declines opportunity for gratitude. If it is true with gratitude for our parents, how much more so must it be true for those who are more removed from us. Watch what happens when you hold the door open for other in front of a store. In my experience the first person through the door often says, “thank you” because she has seen you open the door. But those who follow who encounter only an already open door, not one being pulled open by you, seem to take it for granted and neglect to even nod or say “thanks,” 

As demonstrated by the example of a new Pharaoh gratitude depends on not only appreciating what others do for us, but also actively remembering what others have done for our benefit. To remain active appreciators we have to exercise both a mindset of appreciation and memory.

Many times over the years my parents and I have chuckled over my failure to demonstrate appreciation on my bar mitzvah. While I cannot go back to that moment and fix it, I can remind myself -- and each of us -- just how powerful it is to recognize and remember anything and anyone who has earned our appreciation and gratitude. 

May this Shabbat and the coming winter break from routines of daily life give each of us more opportunities to tell others “I am grateful for . . .”

Racing with Purpose (Vayechi 5774)

As we race toward winter break, this is a good moment to reflect on how we sometimes race ahead of ourselves or race ahead without purpose.

Credit Diario De Navana via Huffington Post

In the Torah reading cycle this week we also are racing toward the end of the book of Bereisheet, which we conclude by reading Vayechi. In it, there is an interesting expression that Jacob uses to describe his oldest son, Reuven, “pachaz ka-mayim -- unstable as water.” (Genesis 49:4) Rashi (11th century) explains this means a kind of recklessness like waters that are rushing without a sense of direction.

More Than Enough (Vayigash 5774)

Having just finished Chanukah the festival that celebrates the miracle of purposeful light -- how we see the world and use our eyes comes to mind. This season also encourages our eyes to grow much bigger than our stomachs. From the food excess of Thanksgiving; to the jelly-donut and latke excess of Chanukah; to the material and shopping excess of Black Friday, Cyber Monday, and the sales of the season. 

This week’s Torah portion, Vayigash, offers a perspective on our human impulse to seek excess. The patriarch Jacob is told that his favored son Joseph is still alive 22 years after Joseph’s brothers told their father Jacob that Joseph was killed by wild beasts. The brothers continue describing for Jacob that Joseph is now the viceroy of Egypt. Jacob seems to interrupt their revelations exclaiming, in some translations, “It is enough [that] Joseph my son is yet alive.” (Genesis 45:28; see, for example, JPS Translation in “The Soncino Chumash (1983)) 

It is as if Jacob is saying, “This is enough; I don’t need anything more!” Or “It is enough to know that Joseph is alive, I don’t need anything more!” Jacob’s exclamation prompts us to ask when are our eyes ever filled with enough light that we don’t need any more? Or when are our stomachs so full that we don’t turn our eyes to wanting more? 

At this season of Chanukah, which rehearses the story of Jewish culture contending with Hellenic culture, a famous story about Alexander the Great and the Acquisitive Eye comes to mind. The Talmud and Jewish tradition has its own version of the story. 

In the Talmud’s version Alexander is traveling home after conquering the world. Here is my elaboration on that story: Alexander the Great comes to a stream that flows directly from the Garden of Eden. He follows the stream to its source and seeks entry to the Garden. Alexander is denied with a statement that only the righteous can enter. He protests that a king of his stature should not be both rejected and turned away empty-handed. So a little round object is given to him. He puts it in his sack and carries it home. Once home he seeks to determine the worth of the round object. (Based on Tamid 32b)

He puts the round object on one side of a scale and heaps gold and silver on the other side. But this little round object outweighs however much gold and silver Alexander puts on the other side of the scale. An astonished Alexander seeks guidance from the rabbis. They explain that the object is an eyeball, which can never be fully satisfied. 

Then the rabbis suggest Alexander cover the eyeball with a handful of dust. Alexander covers the eyeball with dust and this tips the scale. Unable to see the eyeball weighs nothing. The rabbis explain, “The human eye is never satisfied with what it sees. No matter how much gold and silver you put in front of it, the eye will always want more.” In other words, the greedy ambition of an eye seeks more than we need; our greedy eyes get us into trouble. [Link to Jewish Encyclopedia Version of Alexander and the Acquisitive Eye]

At this season of big eyes and much excess, let the Alexander remind us of our capacity, on occasion, to close our eyes and control our desires. If we have the strength to close our eyes to greedy pursuits may we also have the wisdom to open our eyes to recognize and express gratitude for all the blessings that fill our lives. May we grow to exclaim, as Jacob does, “this is enough; I don’t need anything more.”