We Always Need to Give Thanks

Rabbis debate everything.

In ancient times the rabbis argued about the world to come and what will still be required of us. When the messiah comes and perfects the world will we, for example, still need to pray? After all, when peace finally reigns, when there is no more oppression or, when no human being goes to sleep hungry or cold, what more do we need to pray for?

Rabbis also answer their own questions.

Rabbis Pinhas, Levi and Johanan said in the name of Rabbi Menahem of Galilee: “In the world to come, all prayers shall cease, but the prayer of thanksgiving shall never cease.” (Midrash Tanhuma Emor)

We will always need to say thanks. We will always want to say thanks?

When all wrongs are righted, when peace is at long last achieved, why do we need to keep offering thanks to God? If we have everything, would we even feel the impulse to say thanks? Isn’t the impulse to say thanks precipitated by gaining what we did not have? When we gain what we did not previously have, we are filled with gratitude. (Or are we never sated and keep wanting more?)

The rabbis urge otherwise. They argue that our spirits must always be filled with gratitude, regardless of what we may or may not have and regardless of how we feel. Take their approach to food as but one example. When do we say the motzi and offer thanks for the meal? We say the prayer before we even taste the hallah. We say, “Blessed are You, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth,” before we even know if the meal is delicious or not.

We do not begin the meal with words of “I would have preferred steak.” Or, “Really, chicken again.” Instead, gratitude emerges from our mouths before we even allow food to touch our lips.

The meal is transformed by our thanks, as well as the people sitting by our sides.

Saying thank you shifts our outlook. We might think we were not given enough or even that we deserved more but offering prayers of thanks cures our feelings of emptiness. Our souls become full. They are always overflowing. Why? Because they are filled with thanks.

This is why we say the prayers we say when we are confronted with death. Before we tear the ribbon we shout praises to God. Of course the tear is far more representative of our feelings. And yet in that moment, Judaism instructs us to say thanks. Whether we are granted many years with our loved ones, or few, whether their deaths were tragic or peaceful, we say thank you for their lives. Thank you for their teachings. Thank you for the blessings of their companionship.

It does not make the hurt go away. It does not dissipate the longing. It does strengthen us. A soul filled with gratitude is stronger. There is no better option for returning us to friends. There is no other choice for sending us back to the world. We continue offering the Kaddish. We shout praises, and thanks, to God.

Saying thanks makes us better. Even when we have all else, when we have everything we might want and everything God can offer, we still say thanks. Too often we think peace is the more important prayer. It is instead the prayer of thanksgiving.

Our thanks will transform us. And it will outlast us.

The Torah states: “When you sacrifice a thanksgiving offering to the Lord, sacrifice it so that it may be acceptable in your favor.” (Leviticus 22)

Saying thanks makes life feel more favorable.

The debate continues.