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n his book The East-West Conflict: Psychological Origin and Resolution, Rabbi Dr. Rafael Eisenberg makes a compelling argument in support of that seemingly silly notion. What psychological process takes place in the heart of a person who believes in Hashem when he recites the blessings of Bircas Hamazon (or really any brachos that acknowledge Hashem’s gifts) with sincere intent?

Rabbi Dr. Eisenberg explores the mentalities underlying various social, spiritual, and economic systems by which mankind has attempted to attain peace, prosperity, and happiness in the course of world history. After analyzing and discovering the salient weakness that has prevented each of these systems from reaching its goal, Eisenberg zeroes in on the Jewish approach to life. While other systems have brought the world to a point where fear of destruction by nuclear war is a constant presence lurking in the collective subconscious of humanity, Eisenberg says that, nevertheless, man is not doomed. There is one worldview, one way of living that could save him from destruction.

While there is an essential problem with all other systems — they all try to work against man’s natural drive to gain material benefit — the Jewish worldview acknowledges that drive and harnesses its energy to build a social system that could potentially bring peace and happiness to the world. This potential rests in the fact that Jewish thought emphasizes love of our Creator over being afraid of Him.

Rabbi Dr. Eisenberg doesn’t try to convert anyone, nor to offer proofs that Judaism is the true faith. What he seeks to do is to show that it works because it is compatible with basic human psychology — rather than repressing man’s drives, it moderates them. Allow me to paraphrase his idea:

At the basis of Judaism is the belief that Hashem created the world in order to do good to man, to shower him with kindness on the physical level as well as the spiritual level. If man recognizes that G-d is the Source of every material benefit he enjoys, and that G-d is actively concerned with fulfilling the needs of every one of His creatures, then when man satisfies his physical needs, he won’t feel guilty and afraid. On the contrary, he will feel love and gratitude toward the One Who provides for him.

Taking this process a step further, when man is conscious of G-d’s personal concern for each and every one of us and feels good about the material benefits he receives, he will then be able to refine and ennoble his physical drives and see their fulfillment as a step on the way to higher levels of satisfaction — the spiritual delight of love of G-d as a source of happiness in its own right. Only by having tangible needs, and then experiencing G-d’s love and concern for him through the satisfaction of those needs, can man grasp the concept of G-d as his loving Father. While other religions or socioeconomic systems view man’s material drives as destructive forces and the root of all evil, Judaism views them as essentially positive.

In the Jewish outlook, physical needs are seen not as a distraction from the path of spiritual growth, but as a way of keeping us moving along that path. Thus, when a person buys an article of clothing or eats a satisfying meal, he isn’t taking a little side excursion down a dead-end street. The fulfillment of such needs is not an end in itself; it is part of the process of developing love of G-d and reaching higher levels of happiness. When desire is fulfilled in the spirit of accepting Hashem’s gifts, the desire itself undergoes refinement.

Rabbi Dr. Eisenberg brings an illustration. One can enjoy a bouquet of flowers, inhaling its fragrance and reveling in the lovely form and colors of the blooms, as an end in itself or as a means toward an end. A young woman who just received the bouquet as a gift from her fiancé will enjoy the flowers more than if she just happened to find them on a street corner. The sensory pleasure of looking at the flowers and smelling them can’t compare to the much greater pleasure of knowing who sent them and what the gift means.

The problem of modern man, raised on philosophies that don’t recognize G-d as the Provider, is that he pursues material things as ends in themselves. Since this drive is self-centered, man becomes competitive and aggressive in his pursuit. His aggression leads to war, destruction, and sorrow. And then, disappointed in the consequences of pursuing his desires, he seeks ways (asceticism or communism, for example) of repressing his desires.

Man wouldn’t fall into this trap if he were conscious of Hashem as the gracious Provider of all his needs. If gratification of the senses were a springboard toward love of Hashem, there would be no need to repress his natural desire for enjoyment. Like the kallah’s pleasure in the flowers sent by her chassan, man’s joy in Hashem’s gifts would go far beyond the sensory gratification they bring him, reaching higher levels of spiritual enjoyment. And his is the role of Bircas Hamazon — to maintain our awareness of the Provider.

When this dimension of recognizing Hashem’s kindness becomes part and parcel of fulfilling our physical drives, then gratification of desire is not seen as a moral failing. It is not a guilty indulgence, but a component of the straight path to ever-increasing self-refinement, within everyone’s reach. Through Bircas Hamazon and the entire approach to life it represents, everyone can feel the security of G-d’s love and the endless pleasure of loving Him in return.

How would this approach solve the problem of modern man? When man believes he is his own provider, his insecurity gets the better of him. He feels the need to concentrate wealth in his own hands, in his own community, or his own country at the expense of others. Or conversely, when he sees the results of such selfishness, he tries to rectify the situation by redistributing the wealth through forceful means of one kind or another. Either way leads to violence and misery. But when man feels secure in the belief that a loving Creator provides for him and everyone else, he feels no need to stockpile all the goods he can get his hands on, and he is happy to share with others who have less than he. It’s an attitude of peaceful coexistence between individuals, families, communities, and nations.

Of course, the first teacher of Rabbi Dr. Eisenberg’s approach was Moshe Rabbeinu himself, who taught the Jewish People (in this week’s parshah) the principle of “v’achalta v’savata u’veirachta es Hashem Elokecha.” Expanding on that principle, Rabi Yehudah HaLevi writes “The thing that increases pleasure in the life of the chassid [the person who seeks to be close to Hashem] and strengthens it, adding enjoyment to his enjoyment, is the requirement of saying brachos on all that he finds in this world and on all that finds him in this world” (Kuzari, 3:13).

Bircas Hamazon creates a very beneficial mindset for navigating the struggles and complexities of our lives. First of all, it eliminates our sense of entitlement. It instills gratitude for what we have, rather than bitterness over what we don’t have. It (like all the other brachos we say) reminds us that we are under our Creator’s loving care, and that fills us with a sense of satisfaction. And then our very meal becomes elevated to a level far beyond the pleasure of sensory gratification.

This is the mindset that guarantees our happiness in this world. Shouldn’t everyone try it?

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 721)