We’re about to continue the tefillah (prayer). We’re up to Mizmor LeTodah (Song of Thanksgiving). We just finished Baruch She'amar. In Baruch She'amar, our job was basically to buy into the system: to feel part of the Torah way of life, dedicated and committed to that way of life, and to make ourselves part of it. Overall, that was the service of Baruch She'amar.
Mizmor LeTodah is how we start Pesukei Dezimra (verses of song)—the songs, the Pesukim (verses) of song. Between here and Yishtabach at the end. If you go to shul, you’ll hear Kaddish. This whole section is called Pesukei Dezimra. This section is basically songs, praises to Hashem—singing praises to Hashem. You’re supposed to say this. This section is tremendous happiness. That’s what the song is: a person bursts into song when he’s happy. When you’re very happy, you burst into song. So the starting point of that happiness, of the service and work that we do, and of doing it happily, is right here, with Todah, Mizmor LeTodah. Song of Thanksgiving. Todah doesn’t really mean Thanksgiving. But—everybody—no, it doesn’t mean that. No, no. That’s what we’re talking about today.
In Hebrew—in modern Hebrew today, which is essentially a made-up language. It’s not a real language. Modern Hebrew today is a made-up language. They made it up at the start of the State of Israel, in the 40s, right? Hebrew is the real language, the language of the Torah, which was made up 975 generations before the world was created by Hashem himself. That’s when the language was created, and that’s a real language. Modern Hebrew today is not a real language. There are a lot of borrowed terms, and a lot of parts of it are part of real Hebrew, but modern Hebrew today is a made-up language, just like English. That’s not necessarily bad, but it’s just not the holy language that we know of.
In that language, the way they tell each other “thank you” is Todah. That’s the way they say “thank you.” They decided to use the word Todah to say “thank you.” Todah doesn’t mean “thank you.” In Torah terms, when you pray, when you learn Torah, and when you see it in the Torah, the Gemara, or the prayers, the word Todah does not mean “thank you.” That’s not what it means.
As a matter of fact, there are Halachot (Jewish laws) that the Gemara talks about. I’ll just give you a couple of examples. When a guy owes someone money, let’s say you go to somebody and tell him, “You owe me $100.” You’re claiming that he owes you money, and he tells you, “No, no, no. I don’t owe you $100. I owe you $50.” So he’s admitting to part of it. He’s admitting to part and denying part. The law is that when you go to Beit Din (rabbinical court), if you take that guy to Beit Din for the $50, he admits to $50. That’s clear. He won’t try to get the other $50. So when you take him to Beit Din for the other $50, the law is that since he admitted to part of the claim, he’s obligated to swear that he only owes $50. That’s the law. He has to swear, taking a sefer Torah (Torah scroll) in his hand. If he says, “I owe nothing,” then, from the Torah, he does not have to swear. He doesn’t pay. He gets off scot-free. The Chachamim (Sages) said to swear anyway. That’s complicated law, not for now. We don’t have to discuss that now. It’s a conversation for another time, a whole different class. But the guy has to take a sefer Torah from the Heichal (Torah ark) and swear an oath. Scary, of course. Most of the time, they just paid the $50. They didn’t want to swear. If you don’t want to swear, you have to pay the $100. So he paid the extra $50.
But here’s my point. That guy who admitted to part of it—in Hebrew, they call him a partial admitter. He admitted to half. The word modeh means to admit to half of it or part of it. Todah is the same word. There are other laws where you see that it doesn’t mean “thank you.” The guy didn’t say thank you for half the loan. That’s not what he did. He admitted to half the loan.
There are plenty of times in the prayers when we say “modeh two offhand.” There’s Modeh Ani (I give thanks), which we say in the morning when you first wake up—Modeh Ani. Another one is in the Amidah: modim. So here are three times that the same word comes up in the prayers. There’s Modeh Ani in the morning. There’s modeh Todah right here. It’s the same word, the same thing, just a different grammatical situation. So it comes up as Todah. You have Modeh Ani in the morning, modeh Todah right here, and modim in the Amidah. That’s three places. I’m sure there are more; I can’t think of them now. There are three major spots in the prayers every day where we say the word modim: Modeh Todah. They’re all the same word, the root.
In real Hebrew, you always have to go to the root to figure out the translation, the real meaning. The root of the word modeh is vidui. Vidui, if you remember from Yom Kippur, means to confess. Now we understand the law of the guy with the $50. He’s confessing; he’s admitting to half or part of the loan. So that’s where you see it’s the same word. You see? The word modeh means to admit, to acknowledge, to confess. Those are all basically the same word.
Mizmor LeTodah, loosely translated, would be a song of thanksgiving. No. A song of confession. Song of confession. That’s what this is all about: confession. Now, we need to explore what we’re confessing to. First off, in English, confession has a guilty connotation. The word confess sounds like you’re admitting guilt. The reality is, confession doesn’t mean anything about guilt. Confess just means to admit, to come clean about something, just to admit or acknowledge something. If you’re acknowledging something dead, that’s guilty. But if you’re not acknowledging something dead, it’s not guilty. Confession doesn’t mean guilt; it depends what you’re confessing to. The word confess means to acknowledge, to understand and to acknowledge, to come clean, to speak out and acknowledge, to admit. To admit to what? It depends what you’re admitting to. In this context, we’re admitting to the goodness that Hashem has done for us. So that’s like “thank you.” That’s like thanksgiving, but it’s a much, much more powerful idea than “thank you.” I’ll give you a couple of examples from real life.
And this we need to know. The reason I’m spending so much time on this is that we need to understand that this point is the starting point of all our service to Hashem, all our commitment to Torah mitzvot (commandment) and to religious life. Our whole commitment to spirituality and all our growth, all our spiritual growth and getting closer to Hashem, starts with this point right here. So we need to get clarity on this. Otherwise, we’re going to be off base. We’re not going to have a foundation. This is the foundation of the whole Torah, basically.
“How do you say that in Torah words? If I gave you something, do you want to say thank you?” “I would say Todah, but it’s incorrect.” Good question. How would you say thank you? I don’t know. We have to find a place in the Torah. What does it mean when you’re saying thank you? What are you trying to do? What are you trying to convey? “I appreciate that you did something for me.” So we have to look through the Torah and see if there’s a time in a conversation that the Torah brings down where a person said thank you to another. I don’t know if it ever happened. So then there is no Hebrew word for it. In modern Hebrew, they had to make a word, so they made Todah. I’m not saying they made a mistake or shouldn’t have done it. What I’m saying is that it’s incorrect. The downside of that decision is that you have an entire generation—you have generations of Jews—trained incorrectly in the service of Hoda'ah, in the service of Todah, because they learned too much Hebrew from the guy who made the language, who wasn’t even religious, by the way.
Right, but I’m going to tell you a major difference between the two. You’re right, but I’m going to tell you a major difference between the two. Let’s say, for example, you go to a store and somebody holds a door open for you. What do you tell them? “Thank you.” What if you see him the next day again? What are you going to tell him? Nothing. Why? You don’t remember him. How come you don’t remember him? There’s nothing in him. He just walked through. You know why? He happened to be the person. Should I tell you why you’re not going to do anything? I’m going to tell you why: because you already said thank you. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anything more. You completed your obligation.
When you say thank you and give gratitude to somebody by saying thank you, you acknowledge them, if you will. If you acknowledge them, you’ve ended your obligation. When you admit to a goodness that somebody or Hashem has done for you, that doesn’t end your obligation; that starts your obligation. “Oh, I did something for you? What are you going to do for me?” The real-life situation would be when a person does something for you that’s really, really great and overwhelming. When you say thank you, you know that’s not enough. You feel that it’s not enough. You feel like you need to do more. What do you do? You start sending gifts. You send them a card or who knows what, whatever. Right? Each to his own. But there’s a feeling that the thank you is inadequate because of the greatness of what he did. So you see that the concept of thank you is very nice. I’m not knocking it, obviously. You have no choice. But it’s not the complete service. It’s incomplete. If it’s a very small favor, like holding the door, opening the store, it’s fine. But when you’re talking about something great, it’s incomplete.
Now, when we relate to Hashem and start thinking about the things Hashem has done for us as human beings and as Jews, we’ve been hearing for a while now, “Thank Hashem, thank Hashem, thank Hashem,” all the time. Does that feel right? Do you think you can come to Hashem and say, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Hello. Thank you. Do something”? It’s highly inadequate because of the overwhelming goodness that we’ve received. I’ll try to help you appreciate it a little bit here. The overwhelming goodness that you’ve received—to say thank you just doesn’t cut it. That’s where the Torah and mitzvah come in. Hashem says, “I did X, Y, Z for you. What are you going to do for me?” We’re supposed to feel indebted, deeply indebted, to Hashem for doing all these things for us. That starts our obligation.
That’s where we feel the opportunity to be able to do things for us. That’s where we feel the opportunity to give back. That’s where we should feel happiness that we do have that opportunity to give back. And when we do give back, it makes us feel better. It’s because of that deep feeling of indebtedness. But we’re not going to feel that unless we understand the goodness that Hashem did. So yes, you can’t do it without saying thank you. But thank you is half the job. You still need to do more. It starts with a thank you, but it doesn’t end there. You need to know that the service of Hoda'ah is the beginning of your job. Thank you would be the end of your job. The service of Hoda'ah is so much bigger and so much greater than that. The thank you just doesn’t— It’s not enough. It’s a nice starting point, a nice place to get your foot in the water, but it’s not the service of Hoda'ah. The service of Hoda'ah is a much, much greater idea. It’s the idea that I feel indebted to Hashem, and I feel obligated. I feel the obligation. I don’t need Hoda'ah to tell me what to do, because I feel it myself. That’s how strong it is. The whole thing comes from Hoda'ah, from the feeling of thanksgiving. But it’s a feeling of indebtedness.
Just to help you appreciate it a little bit: we’ve all seen dementia patients, Alzheimer’s or whatever. These people, unfortunately—what they look like, and how sad it is to watch, especially when we knew them in their younger years, when they were alive and vibrant and strong. Think about it and imagine. You hear in the news one day that there’s a doctor across the world—anywhere, pick a name, pick a place, Australia, I don’t care, the furthest place you can find, let’s say—who developed a magic pill for this disease, with no side effects. And you can go there, take the pill, and he’ll get his mind back. What would you do? What wouldn’t you do to get there, see that doctor, and take the pill he made? What would you do to get that? And once you did get it, let’s say you got it, and now he’s—whoa, like a miracle—how much would you be indebted to that doctor? How much would you be indebted to the person who took you to the doctor?
I’m not trying to say, “Thank Hashem for not having Alzheimer’s.” That’s not my point. My point is to understand the value of a healthy mind. What would you give to get it if you didn’t have it? How much would you be indebted to the person who gave it to you if you didn’t have it? There’s nothing greater than a healthy mind. You can’t do anything without a healthy mind. We all have healthy minds. Some of us are a little crazy, but we all have healthy minds. How much should we be indebted to Hashem for a healthy mind?
I’ll give you another one. Imagine a person gets an injury in a car accident, and they take him to the hospital. They have to amputate his leg. That’s it. They tell him that if they don’t amputate the leg, it’s going to kill him. They need to amputate. All right, what are you going to do? They amputate. Now he walks around without a leg: fake leg, prosthetic, whatever, wheelchair, the whole nine yards. Imagine that one day you hear about a doctor on the other side of the world who has this magic potion. When you use it, your leg grows back, and it’s your natural leg. A miracle—your leg grows back. What would you do to get that? How much would you appreciate that doctor once you got it?
Again, I’m not trying to say, “Thank Hashem for having two healthy legs.” I’m trying to say, understand the value of a leg. What would you do to get it if you didn’t have it? This is what Hashem is giving us. This is physical. This is our physical nature. What Hashem has given us is enough to make us indebted forever. You see adopted children: what do they do for their adoptive parents when they understand what their adoptive parents did for them, taking them off the street? We should feel the same way about our physicality, about what Hashem has done for us.
But it goes even further than that, because that’s not the greatest good that Hashem did for us. The greatest good that Hashem did for us was putting us in this world to begin with, creating us. We all know the opportunities this world provides by being able to grow, work on ourselves, and overcome our urges. He gave us Yetzer Hara (evil inclination). He gave us desires to overcome, to get closer to Him. The greatest goodness that Hashem can do for mankind is the opportunity for a person to get close to Hashem, the opportunity for a person to become part of Hashem. Hashem gives people the opportunity to become like Himself. The greatest goodness somebody can do is to give of himself: “To be as great as I am. You can be like me, and you can become part of me.” That’s the greatest goodness Hashem did. By creating a world with people in it, He gave us the opportunity to become part of Him, by clinging to Him and overcoming our desires, choosing spirituality all the time. Overcoming, overcoming, overcoming.
Every time you overcome, you work on your Middot (character traits). You work on your desires, you work on everything. Every time you do a mitzvah, every time you learn Torah, every time you pray, every time you overcome something, you’re getting closer and closer to Hashem. Your Neshama (soul) is developing, becoming closer and closer to Hashem, and becoming part of Hashem. You’re able to bask in the glory of His splendor. This is the greatest goodness that Hashem gave us.
Now, we see what people do for their Rabbis. Imagine a guy who grew up not religious. We see this all the time; it’s nothing new I’m telling you. I see it with my own eyes. Imagine a guy who grows up not religious, and some Rabbi finds him, wherever it may be, gets him on the right track, sends him to the right schools and the whole story, takes care of him 24 hours, in the middle of the night, with all his problems. Takes care of everything, everything. Makes sure he’s on the straight and narrow, with the Rabbis and the teachers and the learning. Takes care of him for 20 years, until the guy becomes a real spiritual person, a real great man. How indebted is that person to that Rabbi? We see it. We see it. They’ll do anything for that Rabbi. They’ll jump through hoops for him, for that guy.
Hashem is our teacher. Hashem has taught us all the Torah we know. Hashem has provided us with all the spirituality that we have. Any spiritual level that we have, any growth that we’ve had, is only because Hashem taught us. Hashem carried us along, held our hands, gave us the opportunities, guided us the right way. Even though we have our free will, He still helped us. We know we could not have done it without Hashem’s help. And not only that: He gave us the opportunity to begin with. We were born as Jews. All our spirituality—that’s the greatest gift that we got. All this translates to the feeling of indebtedness that a Jew needs to have just by being alive and being Jewish. All the more so if he has any kind of spiritual level.
We learned this in Aromimcha, if you remember. The beginning of Aromimcha was praising Hashem for the spiritual levels we’ve accomplished. This is the starting point of the service of Torah and mitzvot: Mizmor LeTodah. A song of thanksgiving. A song of acknowledgment. A song of confession—to confess, to come clean about everything we’ve gotten from Hashem.
We are telling the world, “Blow your horns, trumpets, to Hashem.” The whole world: sing, dance, scream. Scream this confession. We’re telling the whole world, “Join us in your confession. Just like we’re confessing, you confess too. Acknowledge, admit everything that Hashem has done for mankind, for Jews, everybody. Join us.” The best way to do that is by praying nicely, by praying fervently, with great fervor and great feeling. People get that message when somebody watches you. That’s how you spread the message, just by people watching. It definitely works. It spreads, it absolutely spreads. You see people all of a sudden start feeling it too. It spreads. It’s contagious.
“Serve Hashem with happiness. Come in front of Him with song.” We have to know it’s not enough that we follow the rules and keep the Torah and mitzvot. We need to do that too, try our best to be religious, but that’s not enough. If we’re feeling the Torah, we need to be brimming with happiness at the opportunity to be able to do something back. Simcha (happiness). Ivdu et Hashem b'simcha (Serve Hashem with happiness). We should be dancing. These Pesukim should be said with utmost joy. We should be singing, clapping, and dancing when we say these Pesukim. Ivdu et Hashem b'simcha. Look at the opportunity we have to be able to fulfill our obligation of giving back to Hashem.
By the way, we never feel like we’ve given back enough. We always feel like we need to do more, because a person always sees how much Hashem does for him. He always feels like it’s not enough. It becomes so satisfying to feel that you’re doing something for Hashem, if you’re really in tune with this point. It becomes so uplifting and satisfying that you have the opportunity to do something for Him. And if you have a situation that makes it more difficult, you get even happier, because you know you’re giving up more to be able to do it. We talked about this in enduring difficulties. If you’re going to endure a difficult situation because Hashem wants you to, that’s going to fill you with happiness, even though it’s a very, very difficult situation.
You can translate that to other things. It doesn’t have to be only a difficult situation. It can be all the Torah mitzvot that we do, any religious observance. If we feel this feeling of indebtedness, we should be so happy to do it. And the harder it is to do, the happier we should be, because it’s so much more difficult. Giving up more is much more of a showing to Hashem of how much we want, how much we care, and how much we’re trying to give back. The happiness builds according to how much we feel indebted. That’s how happy you’re going to be. That’s the level of your happiness.
It’s said in Hodu, “There are people who seek God.” That’s from somewhere else. I didn’t read that inside. But when you seek Hashem, you’ll be happy. When you seek Hashem and try to do better, that makes you happy, because it’s so fulfilling to be able to meet your obligations and feel like you’re doing something for Him.
Even though we need to remember, by the way, that you’re never doing something for Hashem. Hashem doesn’t essentially need our service. Nothing happens to Hashem Himself when we keep Torah mitzvot. It’s all for our benefit. That’s not how it relates to us; it’s not how it relates to Hashem, essentially. Hashem is essentially the ultimate of perfection, the ultimate of completion. There’s nothing that we can add to it. Our service doesn’t add anything to Him. He’s perfect. He’s perfect without us. He was perfect before the world was created. He’s perfect after the world is gone. Before we came along, Hashem is perfect. He always was and always will be. There’s nothing that we can do to add to His perfection.
From our standpoint, for our benefit, we can do something that looks like it helps and gives back to Him because we’re doing what He said. He told us to do X. We’re listening to Him. So in our world, it looks like we’re giving back to Him. Reality, real reality: we’re not giving anything to Hashem. Don’t do Him any favors. It’s for us. It’s for us, for our benefit, for our growth, for our opportunity to get closer to Him, to meet these requirements.
This week because it's related obviously but a different idea. So basically, this paragraph is the starting point of our service. It’s where it all starts. It’s the foundation. We need to open our minds, open our eyes to what Hashem does for us, and that has to build in us a feeling of indebtedness, a feeling of commitment to be able to pay back in some way everything that Hashem did for us. This is real thanksgiving, not just to say thank you, but thank you times ten, times ten. And it’s real thanks. When we say this, we need to be filled with happiness, filled with indebtedness, filled with happiness to be able to give back. That’s the job of this paragraph. That’s what we started off with.
The way to work on this, by the way, is to go over what Hashem has done for you. People have to write and fill up notebooks. The more you pay attention to it, the more things you come up with. This all helps with this idea of feeling indebted.
Some people do that in order to see if they can get more from Hashem. But that’s not the idea. The idea is not to get more. We’ve got so much already, and we want to give back. The idea of thank you is not to get more. People teach you to say thank you to Hashem because He’ll give you more. That’s not Hoda'ah. Does that sound like Hoda'ah to you? That’s the other way around. That’s trying to get more. We’re trying to give back. It’s the wrong direction, the exact opposite. We’re not looking to get more. We’re looking to give back to Hashem. We’re so happy for what He already did to us—what He already did for us. We’re not looking to get more. We’re looking to give back. That’s Hoda'ah, to give back. How are you going to give back? How are you going to feel indebted so you can give back happily, with happiness? That’s Hoda'ah. Not to say thank you to Hashem so He can give you more. No. When He gave you something, then you value it. When you value what you have, whatever you have becomes so much more valuable. If you’re not aware of what you have and what He gave you, it’s like you don’t have it. It’s like you don’t have it.
“Right, yeah, I agree. So you really need to do that. You need to do that first.” “To take into account all that you have.” “Correct. To know that you have it is a very important thing.” “Correct.” “Yes, 100%.”