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    BITTER HERBS, GRATEFUL PEOPLE

    While most of the
    people I encounter this
    time of year are excited
    for Pesach, too many
    confuse eating Marror,
    bitter herbs on Pesach,
    with being bitter people
    about Pesach. Some
    complain about having to host family, others
    are negative about going to family, and there
    are those that even complain about how much
    work it takes to pack and go to a hotel for
    Pesach. How quickly we all forget…
    Our Parsha includes the guidelines to
    bringing a Korban Todah, a thanksgiving
    offering. Our rabbis list four instances in
    which a person should bring this sacrifice:
    when he has traveled overseas; when he has
    traveled through the desert; when he has been
    released from prison; when he has been cured
    of an illness. Rabbeinu Bechayei adds that all
    instances of joy, simchas, milestones,
    successes, are reason for bringing a Korban
    Todah.
    Each day we recite  “A song of thanksgiving; call out to ה’, everyone on earth.”
    As the name suggests, this paragraph of Tehillim was sung by the Leviim
    as an accompaniment to a Korban Todah. Indeed,
    since this mizmor is associated with a korban,
    it has become our practice to stand while reciting it.
    Why does the mizmor begin with one’s
    personal gratitude, then go on to say וּיעִרָה
    on everyone’, ה to out Call, “לַה‘ כָּל הָאָרֶץ
    earth.” Why do all of earth’s inhabitants have
    to join in gratitude? Why does the whole
    world have to express gratitude because an
    individual had something good happen to
    them?
    Rav Chaim Kanievsky zt”l answered this
    question with a story: One day after davening
    in Bnei Brak, one of the attendees took out a
    tablecloth from a bag and spread it on the
    table. He then placed cake and whiskey on
    the table and invited everyone in shul to share
    in his good fortune. Apparently, the day
    before he had been crossing the highway, and
    was hit by a car. He was thrown up into the
    air and landed on his side, but, other than a
    few slight bruises and a soiled suit, he was
    fine. He provided cake and whiskey, so that
    the participants would all have a l’chaim in
    honor of the miracle he had experienced.
    The next day, following Shacharis, another
    member of the shul took out a small
    tablecloth, placed it on a table, and proceeded
    to place cake and whiskey on the table. He
    invited everyone to share. “What happened
    to you?” they asked. “Perhaps you were also
    hit by a car?” “No,” he answered. “Nothing
    of the sort. It is just that yesterday when I
    heard that fellow relate how he miraculously
    escaped serious injury, it dawned on me that
    I have been crossing that highway for the last
    20 years, at the exact same place – and
    nothing has ever happened to me! Is that not
    a miracle? I therefore want to thank Hashem
    publicly for all of His graciousness to me!”
    Rav Chaim explained, “לתודה מזמור refers
    to one’s personal deliverance from ‘what
    seeing, הָרִיעּו לַה‘ כָּל הָאָרֶץ ‘.been have might
    another person pay gratitude to Hashem
    should spur one to introspect and realize how
    much he, too, owes Hashem. True, he may
    not have experienced any misfortune, but
    that in itself is a miracle!” We cannot take our
    good fortune for granted. It is all a gift from
    Above. (Rav Chaim’s own son Shlomo was
    hit by a car when he was six years old and
    almost didn’t survive. Perhaps that miracle
    inspired this insight.)
    Pesach is about many themes including
    freedom, liberty, responsibility, and
    nationhood. But at its core, Pesach is about
    gratitude, it is the Torah’s version of
    Thanksgiving dinner.
    The Abarbanel in his Haggadah addresses
    the questions of Mah Nishtana and zeroes in
    on the specific question of why on all other
    nights we eat chametz and matzah and on
    this night we only eat matzah. He asks,
    do we really eat both chametz and matzah
    the rest of the year? In our experience,
    most people are all-in on chametz 51
    weeks out of the year and barely tolerate
    matzah for one week, but “chametz and
    matzah” the whole year? The Abarbanel
    explains that to understand the Mah
    Nishtana questions you need to
    understand where they are coming from.
    All the questions revolve around the
    Korban Pesach. This korban, he suggests,
    is essentially a Korban Todah, a
    thanksgiving offering.
    One was obligated to bring this gratitude
    korban if they crossed the sea or the
    desert, was healed from illness or released
    from captivity. In the Pesach narrative,
    we fulfilled all four criteria, obligating us
    collectively to pause and express our
    profound gratitude. The meat and breads
    that were to beaten as part of the Korban
    Todah may not be left over until the next
    morning and the same is true of the
    Korban Pesach. The Todah is classified
    as a Korban Shelamim and so is the
    Korban Pesach. The Todah reflects the
    gratitude of the individual and the Pesach
    is a communal gratitude, the appreciation
    of a nation and a people that have made it
    to the other side.
    But here is the thing. Normally, as our
    Parsha explains, a Korban Todah is
    brought with 40 loaves, 30 of which are
    matzah and 10 of which are chametz.
    This is the question of the child who
    wonders, mah nishtana: Why, when we
    normally express gratitude, do we do it with
    chametz and matzah and yet, tonight, our
    gathering for gratitude has only matzah, no
    chametz?
    For the Abarbanel, the connection between
    Pesach, seder night, and gratitude are so
    obvious, so clear, so deep and so ingrained,
    that a young child is stimulated to ask why
    the Pesach gratitude is different than our
    normal gratitude.
    We no longer have a Beis HaMikdash, we
    don’t offer a Korban Pesach or a Korban
    Todah, but gratitude remains our avodah, the
    effort, exercise and goal of the night. It is a
    night of hoda’ah, an evening of Hallel, a
    declaration of dayeinu, all introduced with
    the acknowledgement that וקיימנו שהחיינו
    הזה לזמן והגיינו ,what a miracle that we
    simply have merited to be alive, to be here, to
    be together for Pesach.
    Countless studies show that gratitude is
    good for us in many ways. Studies show that
    that it strengthens our immune systems, helps
    us sleep better, reduces stress and depression,
    and improves relationships. What they also
    show is that to gain those benefits, one must
    do more than just feel grateful, one has to
    express it and show it. The word
    ‘thanksgiving’ means giving of thanks, an
    action, not just a thought or feeling.
    In addition to the Hallel recited at the Seder,
    many have the custom of saying Hallel at the
    end of Maariv in Shul. Why say Hallel twice
    in one night? The Imrei Chaim, Rav Chaim
    Meir Hager of Vizhnitz, says the Hallel we
    say in shul is for the Hallel we will say at the
    Seder table. When davening ends, we are
    overwhelmed with gratitude, joy and
    appreciation that we have a home to go to, a
    seder table waiting, a family to spend the
    evening with, and that we can celebrate our
    freedom and so we say Hallel about the fact
    that we will say Hallel.
    It sounds obvious, but a survey showed that
    only 52% of women and 44% of men express
    gratitude on a regular basis. If you feel and
    demonstrate gratitude, that alone is a reason
    to be grateful. We have a similar idea in
    Shemonei Esrei. We say, Modim anachnu
    lach, we are so grateful to you Hashem…al
    she’anachnu modim lach, for the fact that we
    can be grateful to you.
    It is just a few years ago that we spent a
    difficult and memorable pandemic Pesach
    divided, distanced, and disoriented. Like the
    man who realized the miracle of simply
    successfully crossing the highway, we who
    lived through that time must never take
    Pesach with family, friends, and festivity for
    granted again.