Modim offers us the most genuine, all-inclusive, and sincere version of Thank You, Hashem

Look at our society and you can't help bu tnotice that gratitude to Hashem has become trendy. Popular Jewish music artists compose catchy gratitude-themed tunes and people sport bright plastic bracelets proclaiming their thanks to Hashem. And while it’s certainly a good thing to focus on Hashem’s presence in our lives, I'm slightly skeptical. Does this version of gratitude issue from a superficial place? How can we make sure it actually penetrates our spirit in a profound and meaningful way?

Enter Modim. This section of Shemoneh Esreh has been around for millennia, predating all the hype, and is here to ensure that Thank You, Hashem doesn’t end up as a hip sound bite, but continually edifies and informs our relationship with Him.

The word Modim has a double meaning, referencing two separate but related ideas.  The word “modeh” issues from the same root as “hoda’ah,” thanks. When Yehudah, Leah Imeinu’s fourth son, was born, Leah declared, “Hapa’am odeh es Hashem — now I shall give thanks to Hashem (Bereishis 29:35).” As Rashi (ibid.) explains, the Imahos understood that Yaakov would bear 12 shevatim, three children to each of his four wives. When Leah birthed a fourth son, she expressed her overwhelming gratitude to Hashem for giving her more than her natural “portion” of shevatim.

Modeh also denotes acknowledgement or admission. Yehudah is our prototype for this iteration of modeh as well. When Tamar says, “Haker na” (ibid., 38:25), presenting Yehudah with the items he left as collateral, he takes the bold, difficult step of publicly acknowledging that they are his belongings, admitting, “tzadkah mimeni” (ibid., 38:46).

Twin Concepts

The twin concepts of hoda’ah, praise and thanksgiving, and being modeh, acknowledging and admitting, are at the root of Yehudah’s name.

When it comes to Hashem, being modeh and giving hoda’ah are in fact outgrowths of one another. Being modeh, acknowledging or admitting, “she’atah hu Hashem Elokeinu” is an expression of gratitude to Hashem for having chosen us as His nation, enveloping us with His abiding love, elevating us above all the other nations, and gifting us with Torah and mitzvos. When we acknowledge Who Hashem is, we’re simply left with no choice but to express our infinite appreciation for all He has done.

Acknowledgement begets gratitude.

Sometimes it’s hard to muster the humility to acknowledge or admit that something is true. This is certainly the case if it’s an admission of guilt or wrongdoing. But even in our case of Modim, it can be difficult and humbling to admit that He is Hashem Elokeinu. It’s more comfortable to embrace the illusion that we are “self-made,” the arbiters of our successes and triumphs, and that we don’t owe anyone anything. Indebtedness feels supremely uncomfortable, particularly for those of us who take pride in our independence and are loath to admit frailty and imperfection.

Perhaps this explains the Avudraham’s explanation of Modim as “mishtachavim,” prostration. When I stand upright opposite someone, my bearing suggests parity, equality, or similarity of stature. However, bowing is a posture of subjugation, of admitting our dependence on the One before Whom we bow. The Avudraham’s understanding of the word Modim suggests that this tefillah, at its core, is a declaration of submission before Hashem, a reminder to self that our dependence on Him trumps all other delusions of achievement as ours alone, independent of His guiding Hand.

The Avudraham enlightens us about another curious feature of Modim. The Shulchan Aruch explains that despite our requirement to have kavanah in the Birchas Avos, we don’t repeat the brachah if we didn’t focus properly (O.C. 101; 1). The Mishnah Berurah offers a solution to this puzzle: “There are those who rule that ‘Modim’ is, l’chatchila, as imperative as ‘Avos’” (ibid., 3). Therefore, some poskim posit that having kavanah in Modim can compensate for the kavanah missing from Birchas Avos. Perhaps with the Avudraham’s understanding of Modim as the expression of utter dependence on Hashem we can better comprehend its primacy within our kavanah requirements.

Detailed Appreciation

What exactly are we acknowledging and thanking Hashem for?

Hashem, we’re grateful that You are “tzur chayeinu,” the rock of our lives. Hashem is our rock; He is the only sure and utter constant in our life. He is rock-solid dependable; we can lean on Him without worrying if He can bear the weight of our problems. And He is the foundation stone upon which anything worthwhile in our life is built.

At the same time, tzur denotes something hewn, as from rock. The neshamah is “cheilek eloka mima’al,” an allocation of Divine spirituality. We owe our existence to the fact that we have a neshamah, hewn from Hashem, just as smaller rocks are hewn from larger ones. And this isn’t a one-time phenomenon, rather Hashem is continuously breathing life into us via our neshamah, without which we would cease to exist. Truly, tzur chayeinu.

Hashem, we are grateful to You for being “magen yish'einu,” shield of our salvation. Hashem is a magen, He protectively shields us from any potential harm, before it strikes. And He is yish'einu; if we do indeed fall into trouble, He rescues us from misfortune.

“L’dor vador nodeh lecha, unesapeir tehilasecha.” Regardless of the generation we find ourselves in, we will thank and praise Hashem. Because unlike a mortal king, who is only relevant to his specific generation but rendered obsolete when the times inevitably change, Hashem is as much our protection and salve in the times of the Avos, as in the times of the Tannaim, as in the Victorian era, as today. He is our timeless defender, outlasting every one of our adversaries.

Hashem, we are grateful to You for “chayeinu, hamesurim beyadecha,” our lives, entrusted to Your hands. This reminds us of an uncomfortable truth: Our sustained existence is not under any guarantee. We assume that if Hashem gave us life, we will continue living until the moment He decides to rescind it. However, in the interim, life “belongs” to us, and is a given. In fact, Hashem is reenergizing us at every moment, and our second-by-second existence is by His deliberate choice. Our vitality is indeed “mesurim beyadecha"; only by virtue of His present desire, at this very moment, do I continue to breathe.

Hashem, we are grateful for “nissecha sheb’chol yom imanu,” the miracles that accompany us daily. Here we don’t speak of overt nissim such as Yetzias Mitzrayim, but rather the quiet nissim that fall far below the radar of perception. As Rav Dessler teaches, these, too, are nissim, however they’re the nissim whose consistent, daily presentation fool us into regarding them as natural phenomena. They are the blood that flows  through our arteries and nourishes even the farthest limbs, they’re the cells constantly repairing themselves to prevent dangerous mutations, our hair and nails quietly continuing to grow, our epiglottis shifting automatically to channel our air and food.

Hashem, we are grateful to You for “niflaosecha,” Your wonders. Niflaos issues from the same word as hafla’ah, or “yaflee,” which Rashi (Bamidbar, 6:2) explains as “yafrish,” to separate. Here we refer to the things Hashem does that are so separate from us, they are in fact covert and deeply hidden. They are the things He does for us that lie firmly beyond nature, but we are entirely unaware of them, the times He rescues us from an unknown enemy or prevented a terrible misfortune that we will never know could have been. These are the instances when Hashem is “oseh niflaos levado,” effecting miracles alone, because He alone is aware of the miracle and its outcome. He has spared us the pain of ever knowing we were endangered.

Modim offers us the most genuine, all-inclusive, and sincere version of Thank You, Hashem. It’s our ultimate opportunity to both admit and acknowledge the titanic debt of gratitude due to Him.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 904)