What’s wrong with a simple thank-you?

The real work of hakaras hatov – and how it can fill our lives with goodness.
What’s wrong with a simple thank-you?

The real work of hakaras hatov – and how it can fill our lives with goodness

What’s the point of hakaras hatov? What are we supposed to be accomplishing when we thank somebody?

We tend to think – understandably – that hakaras hatov is about making the other person feel good. They did us a favor, so it’s our job to express gratitude and praise them.

It’s good to make other people feel good. But that’s not the core avodah of hakaras hatov.

Where can we find the Torah’s source for hakaras hatov? In the parsha of bikkurim. As per Rashi’s explanation, when a farmer brings his first fruits to Yerushalayim, he makes a “declaration of hakaras hatov” before handing his fruits off to the Kohein.

Reading through that “declaration,” however, we’re confused. Firstly, the farmer never actually says “thank you.” Secondly, he doesn’t mention anything about what he’s grateful for – a successful crop. Instead, he starts spinning the story of Yaakov and Lavan, continues with Yaakov’s descent into Egypt, and describes the Jewish people’s redemption and acquisition of Eretz Yisrael.

Why does that constitute hakaras hatov?

And what about Bircas Hamazon – another major expression of gratitude in Judaism? Never in five-plus paragraphs do we actually thank Hashem for the meal we’ve eaten. We thank Him for Eretz Yisrael, Yetzias Mitzrayim, Bris Milah, Torah… anything but the sandwich we just finished.

Why?

Let’s start with some simple translations. “Hakaras hatov” doesn’t translate to “thanks” or “gratitude.” “Hakaras hatov” means “recognizing the good.” Internalizing the gifts we’ve received.

Which, for many of us, isn’t something we’re good at. Maybe we’re uncomfortable taking, so we subconsciously try to minimize what was done for us. Maybe we’re struggling with a sense of entitlement. Maybe we can’t stand feeling indebted. Whatever it is, many of us have trouble fully “recognizing the good” others do for us.

That’s the avodah of hakaras hatov. To open ourselves up to feel the extent of the good we’ve received. And to do that right, we need to do some thinking. We need to consider all the different factors that went into the gifts or favors we were given.

Your neighbor didn’t just send you dinner. She’d already done her weekly shopping, so your dinner meant an extra trip to the grocery store. It meant extra thought and planning around your family’s allergies and preferences. And that’s just her efforts – what about all the grocery workers who run the store, and the truckers who supply it, and and and…

That’s why the bikkurim declaration includes all those stories. The farmer isn’t just thanking Hashem for his harvest. He’s thanking Him for all the factors that brought him to this day. For all the ways Hashem’s guiding Hand influenced history – protecting Yaakov from Lavan, redeeming Klal Yisrael from Egypt, settling us in Eretz Yisrael – so that this farmer could make a living from his corner of the Holy Land.

Bentching is the same. We’re not just thanking Hashem for our pastrami on rye. We’re thanking Him for the spiritual gifts that have prepared us to merit our meal and partake of it properly.

Hakaras hatov is meant to help us break through our rush-rush, surface experience of life to reveal the levels upon levels of goodness that Hashem – and, to a lesser degree, our fellow man – does for us constantly. It’s meant to build our awareness of the “100,000,000,000,000,000,000 favors You performed for our ancestors and for us” (as per the tefillah of Nishmas). It’s meant to imbue us with the feeling that we live in a world of endless good, that we’re loved, taken care of.

Last week, we spoke about how properly receiving someone else’s gift enables us to give connection to them. True receiving requires us to exercise our hakaras hatov muscles. To recognize, contemplate and internalize the good we’ve been given. To allow it to pervade us, touch us.

When hakaras hatov just means saying thank you, it often becomes little more than our “get out of debt free” card, our way of excusing the fact that someone did us good.

Let’s switch over to the real version of hakaras hatov. Let’s do the work, uncomfortable as it might be, to really take in the gifts we receive from Hashem and His children. Eventually, once the newness wears off, we’ll feel surrounded by endless goodness. We’ll overcome the pall of negativity surrounding so much of our lives. And we’ll feel closer to Hashem and those around us than we ever could have imagined.