02 Apr 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.”
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
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.
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
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.
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.