Modeh Ani - The Meaning of Gratitude to Hashem in Light of Chassidus | Parshas Vayechi

00:00 Today we’re going to talk about saying thank you. There’s the thank-you between one person and another. Someone receives help, assistance, a favor from a friend, and the magic word is “thank you.” It’s the word you’d expect, a word of gratitude. And yet we feel that it isn’t always easy to say it. For some reason, this word is the simplest, most basic, most pleasant and sweetest of words, but we know that in life, sometimes it’s hard to say “thank you very much,” or even “thank you,” to someone who has done me a favor. We use the word “thanks” a lot when speaking to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A Jew gets up in the morning, and the first words with which we begin the day are “Modeh ani lefanecha”—“I give thanks before You.” We’ve barely opened our eyes. We haven’t yet washed our hands; our hands are impure, with the spirit of impurity resting on them, as stated in halachah. And yet you don’t wait to wash your hands before saying Modeh Ani. No. A person opens his eyes, sits up, and immediately says, “I give thanks before You, living and eternal King, for You have returned my soul to me with compassion; great is Your faithfulness.” What is it about this word, this gratitude, that makes it so basic, fundamental and central to a Jew’s life? If we look, we’ll notice something interesting: the words “modim,” “modeh,” “todah,” “hoda’ah”—all words of thanks—surround us far beyond the morning’s Modeh Ani. It starts in the morning and continues when we begin the morning prayers, Shacharis. At the beginning of the prayers, there is “Give thanks to Hashem, call upon His name, make His deeds known among the nations”—there we say the word “thanks.” We continue on to the Amidah, the loftiest and highest part, when a Jew stands in prayer in complete self-nullification, “like a servant before his master,” as the Gemara says. Then we reach the climax of the prayers, the end of the Amidah: “We give thanks to You.” A person bows and once again says, “We give thanks to You,” and then we continue the

02:20 blessing that the Sages call the blessing of thanksgiving, concluding, “Blessed are You, Hashem; Your name is good, and it is fitting to give thanks to You.” In Shacharis, in Minchah and in Maariv, at the holiest, loftiest, deepest moments. It’s interesting: at the start of the day, when my eyes are still stuck shut, when I’ve barely opened them, before I’ve thought, contemplated or felt inspired, I’m already saying, “I give thanks before You.” Thank You. And when I reach the climax of prayer, after going through the whole process from beginning to end—Pesukei Dezimra, the blessings before Shema, Shema Yisroel—we arrive at the Amidah, and at the climax of the Amidah itself, toward its end, we say “We give thanks to You.” That gratitude again. What is so profound about gratitude that makes it so important? And if we talk about the weekly parsha, Parshas Vayechi, we encounter this gratitude in a very central place: the blessing of the tribe of Yehudah. Yaakov Avinu gathers his sons and tells them, “I’m going to reveal to you the secrets of the days of Moshiach, the end of days.” Yaakov Avinu gathers his sons and says to them, “Gather together, and I will tell you what will happen to you at the end of days.” Gather together; I’m going to tell you what will happen at the end of days. And then, when he comes to Yehudah, the words pour out. More verses about the end of days are revealed in the blessing of the tribe of Yehudah than in that of any other tribe, and it’s understandable why: from Yehudah came King David; from King David came the kings of the House of David and Moshiach. These verses are among the few places in the Written Torah—in the Chumash, at least—that speak very clearly about the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu. And how does he begin? “Yehudah”—the name Yehudah is about giving thanks. Why was he called Yehudah? We all still remember from Parshas Vayeitzei: “This time I will give thanks to Hashem.” Leah thanks Hashem. Even though she already had several children, when her fourth child is born she says,

04:41 “This time I will give thanks to Hashem,” and she names him Yehudah. Now Yaakov Avinu says, “Yehudah, your brothers will give thanks to you.” Do you know why you are called Yehudah? Because all your brothers are destined to give thanks to you. What is this thanksgiving, and what is its connection to Moshiach? We also look at verses connected with the Geulah—the weekly parsha, which speaks about the Geulah, and other verses: “And you will say on that day: Give thanks to Hashem, call upon His name, make His deeds known among the nations.” There, the prophet Yeshayahu is speaking about the Geulah: “And you will say on that day: Give thanks to Hashem, call upon His name.” When Moshiach comes, we will say “thank you” again. It will be the central word of the Geulah. What’s more, our Sages tell us—in the Midrash on Psalm 100, “A psalm of thanksgiving; raise a joyful cry to Hashem, all the earth”—that all offerings will cease except for the thanksgiving offering. What is so profound about gratitude that it surrounds a Jew in such basic, central places and at such peak moments, when gratitude fills us so completely? What is there in this gratitude, and how does it connect to the Geulah, to Moshiach and to our time? What does it mean especially in these days, in this period when we all know, we all believe, and we all anticipate and await that moment of all moments—the Geulah? What is it about thanksgiving that makes it more important in this period than ever before? So as we begin to consider this, today we’ll talk about gratitude, about the word “thank you” and the deep meaning Chassidus gives it. The simple meaning of “thank you” is acknowledging the good. Someone did me a favor, and I thank him. Acknowledging the good that Hakadosh Boruch Hu has done by waking me up in the morning. Hashem returned my soul to me: “For You have returned my soul to me with great compassion.” I went to sleep broken, tired, worn out, without strength, and I woke up refreshed, renewed, with fresh strength, new strength

07:10 and renewed vitality. So I say thank you. I acknowledge the good. But it’s interesting—notice that when Leah gave birth to her first baby, she didn’t yet say thank you. Not with the second baby, either. Not with the third. Only when the fourth baby arrived did she say, “This time I will give thanks to Hashem.” What changed this time? If it’s about acknowledging the good, she should have said it right away. What does “This time I will give thanks to Hashem” mean? The commentators ask this—the great Rishonim, the Radak and others—and explain that this is also what Rashi seems to mean. What Leah is saying is that she understood she was to be one of the holy matriarchs who would give birth to the holy tribes. As Rashi says, the matriarchs were prophetesses; they had ruach hakodesh. They knew they would give birth to the twelve tribes. After she gave birth to her first three sons—which was a quarter of the total, since Yaakov had four wives—she had borne the three she expected to bear. Three from each would make twelve altogether. When she gave birth to the fourth son, she said: This is already above and beyond. In other words, this is more than I am due. The first three, I could expect; this one I could not. And if Hashem gives it to me, that calls for thanks. So we understand here that gratitude involves a kind of acknowledgment, not just an expression of appreciation, but a deeper statement: I wasn’t entitled to this, and yet You gave it to me. I acknowledge that. Chassidus comes and reveals the deeper meaning here. Notice something interesting: the words modeh and hoda’ah, giving thanks and acknowledgment, also have another use in Lashon Hakodesh, in Hebrew. There’s thanking someone: thank you for doing me a favor, thank you for giving me something, for helping me. But there’s also another kind of acknowledgment. A person acknowledges that the other is right after they’ve had some kind of disagreement. “I concede to you; you”

09:29 Right. Yes? There’s an argument between two people. I saw things differently and was sure I was right, but at some point I lower my head and say, “No, you know what? I concede—you’re right.” So gratitude involves a kind of self-effacement: the ability to recognize that someone has done more for me than I was entitled to. In other words, I didn’t deserve it, and he did it for me. I wasn’t worthy, and I received it. When we talk about thanking another person, that’s really what happens, if you think about it. When I thank someone, beyond acknowledging the good they’ve done, I’m also saying something much deeper: “You didn’t have to help me, and that’s why I thank you.” I wasn’t entitled to it. Or, in other words, what you did went above and beyond. You weren’t obligated to do what you did, but you did it. That’s above and beyond, and so, thank you. In saying thank you, we’re also saying: “I can’t do it alone. I can’t manage on my own. I need other people. I need people around me to do things for me, to help me.” Because, after all, we’re limited human beings, and we live among other people. There are things another person will do for me, ways they’ll help me. So notice that in all these aspects there’s a kind of—let’s say—a certain self-effacement, a certain humility: recognizing that the other person has something I don’t have, recognizing that I need you, recognizing that you did something you didn’t have to do for me. In all these points, there’s self-effacement and a willingness to accept what that person gave me, setting myself aside. And perhaps that’s why there is the...

12:06 Sometimes we see how difficult this can be. People sometimes find it hard to say thank you, even though it seems like the obvious thing to say. We know how often arguments arise over this. Issues of shalom bayis can revolve around it: “Did you say thank you?” “You didn’t say thank you.” “I did.” “I wanted to.” “Do I have to say thank you? It goes without saying.” But it doesn’t quite, because saying thank you means recognizing that someone has gone above and beyond. When we stand before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, a Jew says, “Modeh Ani before You.” That’s a kind of self-effacement before Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A Jew wakes up in the morning, and the first thing he does—as we said, before he understands, before he feels it, before he’s even fully awake enough to grasp its depth—is lower his head. There’s even a custom that the Frierdiker Rebbe describes from when he was a small child and his father taught him how to say Modeh Ani. The Rebbe Rashab taught his son, the Frierdiker Rebbe, who was then just a little boy, how to say Modeh Ani. He was only two or three years old. He told him, “You sit up in bed, lower your head, place one hand on the other, and say the words of Modeh Ani.” When he tells the story, he also says that he asked why they did it that way. It’s interesting: he was a child, but a child who wanted to understand things. So he asked his father why they said Modeh Ani in that way. His father called for the attendant, a simple Jew who worked for the Rebbe in his court in Lubavitch. His name was Bentzion, and he asked him, “Bentzion, tell me, how do you

14:13 say Modeh Ani?” Bentzion said, “The way I was taught: you lower your head, place one hand on the other, and say, ‘Modeh Ani before You,’ and so on.” The Rebbe Rashab asked him, “Why do you do it that way?” He answered, “What do you mean? My father taught me to do it that way when I was a baby, and I’m sure his father taught him, and his father before him. That’s how it’s been passed down from generation to generation.” The Rebbe Rashab said to the Frierdiker Rebbe, who was then a little boy, “That is Modeh Ani.” In other words, of course there are explanations, but that is its essence. That in itself is the explanation. Modeh Ani means that a Jew knows how to lower his head, set himself aside, and say to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “I need You. I’m not entitled to anything. You don’t actually owe me anything. Thank You for giving me life. Thank You for giving me my soul.” That’s the basic idea of Modeh Ani. If we go deeper, Modeh Ani also expresses a Jew’s capacity for faith. “Modeh Ani before You” means that a Jew wakes up in the morning and declares, “I believe.” As we said earlier, the word modeh means, “I don’t understand.” “I concede that you’re right.” When I sometimes say in an argument, “I concede your point,” or “I admit that you’re right,” it isn’t necessarily because I’ve fully understood it and become convinced that I was mistaken and you were right. No. Sometimes it’s an inner sense that what the other person is saying is true—a feeling for the truth. Even though I haven’t yet grasped it inwardly or intellectually, I acknowledge that what you’re saying is right. In the Gemara, we often find the phrase, “The Sages concede to Rabbi Meir.” That concession is a kind of lowering one’s head, setting oneself aside, and having faith that there is truth here even before understanding it. I’m willing to set aside

16:37 my own opinion in the face of that truth. So when we wake up in the morning and open our eyes, the first thing a Jew says is: “Hakadosh Boruch Hu is right here in the room with me. I am a Jew, and I believe. Modeh Ani before You. I acknowledge that You exist. I acknowledge that You are here. I acknowledge that You are the One who gave me my soul.” With Modeh Ani, a Jew declares, “I believe.” The Rebbe cites this in Hayom Yom. Hayom Yom is a small book, a daily calendar for which the Rebbe compiled a teaching for each day. It’s a wonderful book, with short teachings for every day. In Hayom Yom for 11 Shvat, the Rebbe says: We say Modeh Ani while our hands are still impure, before washing them. It mentions neither Hashem’s Name nor His sovereignty. That is, whenever a Jew says a blessing, he says, “Blessed are You, Hashem,” but here we mention neither His Name nor His sovereignty. We say, “Modeh Ani before You.” What is this simple declaration of Modeh Ani? The Rebbe says in Hayom Yom that a Jew declares: “No matter what happens, all the impurities in the world can never contaminate my Modeh Ani.” Whatever a person’s circumstances or behavior, whatever their mental or physical state, whatever their level of Torah and mitzvah observance—whatever state they’re in—a Jew’s Modeh Ani always remains whole. What does that mean? “I am a Jew, and I believe.” That point is the essence of every Jew. That’s why, when a Jew wakes up in the morning, the first thing we say is Modeh Ani. It’s the Modeh Ani with which we begin the day. It’s a Jew’s fundamental self-effacement: even before he understands or feels, he knows, he believes, he gives himself over, he recognizes the truth. And that is the foundation of a Jew’s life. When we then begin to

19:06 Prayer—and we are already beginning to open our eyes a little, to reflect. When a person pays attention to what he is saying in prayer, prayer is a ladder. The Zohar says, “A ladder was set on the earth, and its top reached heaven.” That is prayer. Chassidus explains that prayer has stages. You reflect on the words of the prayers, on the greatness of Hashem. Every verse, every chapter, leads you to see the greatness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu in creation: the Divine Providence with which He watches over every animal and every created being; the miracles, wonders, and special Divine Providence over the Jewish people. And we see the hosts of heaven and the hosts of earth: “You give life to them all.” In this way, a Jew keeps advancing through prayer. The angels see the greatness of Hashem and say, “Holy, holy,” and “Blessed is the glory of Hashem from His place.” “Hear, O Israel: Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” We reach the peak of “And you shall love Hashem your G-d”—love and awe of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Then, when we stand for the Amidah, at the height of our understanding, feeling, and closeness to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, once again we say, “We give thanks to You.” I thought I had already understood, felt, and internalized it. But I know that it is all far beyond anything I understand. “We give thanks to You.” This is acknowledgment. When a person says, “I acknowledge that You are right,” it is the recognition that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is infinite, far, far beyond everything I understand, grasp, or feel. His true wonder, exaltedness, and greatness bring about a much deeper self-nullification. However much I understand and grasp, Hakadosh Boruch Hu is so much more. As King David says in Tehillim, “I was like a beast with You, yet I am always with You,” and “I was foolish and did not know.” “I was like a beast with You, yet I am always with You.” King David is saying that despite all his greatness, all his contemplation of the greatness of the Creator, I feel that, before

21:24 Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I am like a fool, like a beast—and that is precisely what brings me close to You. That is “We give thanks to You” in the course of prayer, at the conclusion of prayer. So, in essence, a Jew’s relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu is a relationship of gratitude. There is gratitude as the foundation of everyday life. How does a Jew begin the day? With the simple, basic thanks of simple faith—the simple kabbolas ol of the kingdom of Heaven, when a Jew says: I give thanks to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. I give myself over to Him. The morning’s Modeh Ani is this innocent, simple devotion. And then there is the devotion that comes after all the study, after all the feelings: a devotion beyond reason and understanding to the true greatness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is the connection to Yehudah as the beginning of the Davidic dynasty and Moshiach. Because that kingship, the kingship of the House of David, is connected with Yehudah, with giving thanks. King David, the king who brings the whole message of the House of David, teaches us that a Jew must know how to give thanks, how to devote himself to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The House of David comes from the tribe of Yehudah. Through his Tehillim, his prayers, and his praises, King David teaches us how a Jew gives thanks to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: how a Jew should begin the morning with simple gratitude, thanking Hakadosh Boruch Hu for all His goodness and kindness; thanking Him for the beautiful, wondrous creation He creates; thanking Him for everything He gives us. And we come to the culmination of the House of David—Moshiach—as it says in the verse in the weekly parsha: “Yehudah, your brothers will praise you,” and later, “The scepter shall not depart from Yehudah until Shiloh comes.” This refers to Moshiach. In his time there will be the deepest possible acknowledgment and self-nullification before Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is why

23:39 “On that day you shall say: Give thanks to Hashem, call upon His name, make His deeds known among the peoples.” All peoples and all nations will come to thank Hakadosh Boruch Hu and recognize their gratitude to Him, because then His true greatness will be revealed before all creation. This is what the Sages say: All sacrifices will cease except the thanksgiving offering. All songs of praise will cease except “A Psalm of Thanksgiving.” So it says in the Midrash. In other words, “A Psalm of Thanksgiving” belongs especially to the coming of Moshiach. Then the world will reach its perfection, and there will be the deepest and most wondrous revelation of G-dliness. Then we will truly recognize and appreciate that real gratitude: the acknowledgment, the absolute self-nullification a Jew will feel before Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Chassidus tells us: What is the preparation for the coming of Moshiach? The preparation is also the work of Modeh, of acknowledgment and gratitude. Precisely in our generation, in these times, we stand before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and we do not always understand His ways. But we know that His is the absolute truth; we know that it is the absolute good, even though we do not understand it or feel it. There are very, very difficult moments. Precisely in the hardest stages of exile, this acknowledgment, this devotion, awakens in a Jew: the Modeh Ani in which I nullify myself before the absolute truth of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is what is asked of a Jew today. The “Modeh Ani before You” of our generation is something profound and wondrous. We see it today: despite all the suffering, difficulty, and sorrow, we see a Jew say, “Modeh Ani before You. Thank You, Hashem,” giving himself over to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And although I do not always understand the ways of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I know that the truth is with Him and that He is right. Soon we will see the good that is present even in this darkness. The depth of it all will be revealed when Moshiach comes.

26:01 “And on that day you shall say”—the verse in Yeshayahu says that the day will come when we will all say, “I thank You, Hashem, for You were angry with me”: thanks to Hashem even for the suffering of exile. So this faith, this “Modeh Ani before You” that a Jew has today, is itself the preparation and the vessel for the revelation of “Give thanks to Hashem, call upon His name”; for the thanksgiving offering; for “A Psalm of Thanksgiving: Raise a joyful cry to Hashem, all the earth.” May we merit to see it soon, in our days. And so what we need to learn from the weekly parsha, which teaches us about Yehudah as the beginning of the House of David and Moshiach, is how we prepare for the Geulah: to learn to say thank you; to thank Hakadosh Boruch Hu; to thank another person who does me a favor; to learn to nullify myself, to devote myself, to recognize that I am not entitled to all this, yet I am given it anyway; and always to be happy with my lot. This gratitude is the work that will prepare us for “A Psalm of Thanksgiving: Raise a joyful cry to Hashem, all the earth,” and “Yehudah, your brothers will praise you.” May we truly merit to see the fulfillment of all the wonderful things written in the weekly parsha, “until Shiloh comes, and to him the peoples will gather,” and all the verses that follow. May we see with our own eyes, today, what will happen with the ingathering of the exiles.