I’d like to dedicate this article to the memory of Rabbi Moshe Hauer z”l, who was so tragically taken from the world on Shemini Atzeres. Rabbi Hauer served as the Executive Vice President of the Orthodox Union from 2020 to 2025 and was for the previous 24 years the revered and well beloved rov of the Bnai Jacob Shaarei Zion Congregation here in Baltimore. Though I live on the other side of town and was not a member of his kehillah, I’ve heard him speak and, even more, heard the way others speak of him. His wisdom and special chein will be sorely missed, both in Baltimore and throughout the Jewish world.
On Hoshanah Rabbah, just one day before his petirah, Rabbi Hauer gave a shiur which, ironically, touched on Gan Eden. True to his caring nature, he paused in the middle of his talk to urge those in attendance to make a “leishev basukkah” and enjoy a piece of potato kugel while it was still “hot and delicious.”
Mostly, the shiur was about goodness and gratitude. I’d like to humbly incorporate one or two of his thoughts here.
Every day, we wake up expecting things.
We expect the sun to rise and afford light to illuminate our activities. We expect there to be food in our refrigerators. Stepping outdoors, we expect the streets to be reasonably clean, the traffic lights to work, and the mailman to make his rounds in a timely manner. In short, we expect the world to keep ticking along in a consistent and responsible way for our benefit.
We pay taxes to ensure that the man-made responsibilities are fulfilled. In many ways, though, we take many Divinely orchestrated phenomena serenely for granted.
Just like the baby bird who opens its mouth and expects its mother to drop in a juicy worm, we walk around with figuratively open mouths of our own, expecting but hardly even noticing how much Hashem drops in on a steady basis. And I’m not just talking about food. I’m talking about the many, many needs that He fulfils for us day and night, regular as clockwork. From the time we, too, are tiny, helpless babies… to the moment we close our eyes on this earth for the last time.
Nature was designed by Hashem to conceal His active participation in our daily lives. In Gan Eden, however, there was no such concealment. His goodness was visible on every side. And His desire was to shower that goodness on His creatures. Particularly, on his human creatures.
But Adam sinned. His “excuse,” when Hakadosh Boruch Hu called him on his misdeed, was to blame the wife that You gave me. Instead of expressing gratitude for the immense blessing of a helpmate, Adam turned things around and tried to fault not only Chava, but implicitly even Hashem Himself, for saddling him with her.
It’s not easy to always say the right thing when we’re put on the spot. Scared and defensive, being grateful for Chava was probably the last thing on Adam’s mind when confronted with Hashem’s displeasure at what he’d done. Still, there’s a vital lesson to be learned here. Never should we forget how much we owe to those who support and care for us, and even less should we neglect to remember our enormous and ongoing debt to our Creator.
That sense of obligation should always be at the forefront of our minds, not tucked in somewhere at the back where we can access it now and then as the mood strikes. Our gratitude needs to be right out there, a major building block in the edifice of our personalities.
With this in mind, the Torah commands us to bless Hashem after eating a meal. Birkas Hamazon is there to remind us that the food we just consumed did not come our way by “natural means.” From seed to mill to factory to supermarket to the money we use to pay for it, every meal we enjoy is a miracle, a symbol of Divine kindness and concern for our well-being. We bentch to remind ourselves of all the blessings that Hashem has bestowed on us, and continues to bestow, since the beginning of time.
But we go even further than the Torah demands. As Chazal describe, when the malochim questioned Hashem’s deep love for the Jewish people, He replied, “How can I not love them? When I command, v’achalta, v’savata, u’beirachta es Hashem Elokechah—You shall eat, and be satiated, and bless Hashem, your G-d—Bnei Yisroel go beyond that. They institute a halacha saying that one must recite the Birkas Hamazon after eating only a small measure of food which is not enough to satiate them—merely a k’zayis or k’beitzah! When they insist on showing Me such gratitude, how can I not shower My goodness on them?”
There it is in a nutshell: the circle of love. The more we appreciate what Hashem does for us, and the more sincerely we express our gratitude out loud, the more He loves us and desires to benefit us.
B’Tzelem Elokim
Rabbi Hauer spoke about Avrohom Avinu’s tremendous desire to give. Even after undergoing bris milah at the age of 99, he was eager to host guests. At first, Hashem made the day scorching hot to keep travelers from passing by. Then, seeing how pained Avrohom was by his inability to welcome guests, Hashem sent him three very special visitors.
What I found especially fascinating was the parallel that the rov drew between Avrohom’s nature and that of Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself. Back before there was a universe, Hashem could have left things as they were, complete in His own existence. But He wanted to give. So, he created a world full of needy beings and takes pleasure in caring for them. On our own level, we can relate to the intense pleasure parents take in doing for their children.
In this most basic trait, Avrohom showed himself to be truly created b’tzelem Elokim, in Hashem’s image. Even more than the ability to give, the desire to give makes us G-dly. Having both been created in His image and descended from the towering human figure who most clearly emulated it, we, Avrohom’s progeny, have no excuse to be anything less than the most loving, giving, and compassionate people on the planet. Which, indeed, we have consistently shown ourselves to be.
Jews have been at the forefront of virtually every movement aimed at bettering mankind’s lot. Even Jews who have hardly any knowledge of what Yiddishkeit means are always striving and straining to improve things for their fellow men. Wanting to help others is part of our DNA.
And showing gratitude to others, including and especially to Hashem, needs to be the second-largest part of our national DNA. Sometimes it’s easier to thank a stranger than to express our appreciation to those closest to us. When was the last time you thanked your mother for everything that she’s done for you since the moment you were born? Thanked your husband for going out to work every day so you can give the lion’s share of your time to raising the children? Thanked your wife for being your biggest fan and cheerleader, every single day?
If we don’t express enough gratitude, it’s because we’ve come to expect certain things and, consequently, take them for granted the way we take the warmth and light of the sun for granted. Let’s open our eyes to those to whom we owe thanks, starting with Hashem Yisborach and continuing on down to our nearest and dearest.
And let’s open our mouths to make them happy by expressing it… to keep the circle of love spinning forever!
