Thanksgiving
Gratitude, Vulnerability, and Empathy
Leah names her fourth child Judah/Yehuda as an expression of her gratitude to God, saying “הַפַּעַם אוֹדֶה אֶת ה - this time, I will thank (‘odeh) God.” (Gen. 30:35)
In Bereshit Rabbah (71:4), Rabbi Berekhya cites Rabbi Levi, who analogizes to a priest/kohen who descended to the threshing floor. One man presented the kohen with a full measure of tithe, but he showed him no gratitude in return. Another gave the kohen just a handful of non-sacred produce, yet he showed him gratitude. “My Lord kohen,” said the first man. “I gave you a full measure, and that one gave you only a handful, and yet you show gratitude to him?” The kohen responded, “You gave me from my own portion1, but he gave me from his own; that is why I showed him gratitude.”
The Midrash explains that Jacob’s wives knew he would have twelve sons and so they assumed that they would “naturally” be entitled to bear him three sons each.2 Leah’s exclamation of gratitude was prompted by the birth of Judah, her fourth son, because he was that extra blessing she did not expect to receive.
Given the Midrash’s definition of gratitude, we can easily understand why it is a difficult trait for many people to cultivate into their lives. Our natural tendency, particularly in a contemporary culture that celebrates self-sufficiency and self-reliance, is to avoid feeling that we owe something to someone (think of the term “a debt of gratitude”). Conversely, we may feel bad instead of grateful when others support us because we have the sense that it reflects a failing or shortcoming in ourselves.
Perhaps this is why the Torah does not just guide us towards thanking God for the blessings we enjoy, but also towards sharing them. For example, the Torah repeatedly instructs us to celebrate our festivals with the disadvantaged - paupers, widows, and orphans - who may never be in a position to repay a kindness offered to them.3
Giving of ourselves with no expectation of being repaid trains us to honestly consider our own lives, recognizing and appreciating what we receive, “unearned,” or “undeserved,” both from others and from God.
After all, nobody is entirely self-reliant. Being there for others teaches us to face our own dependencies and shortcomings.
Rather than being a source of anxiety and disappointment, our dependence can itself be a source of gratitude if it reflects the joy and comfort of being part of a community in which everyone is there to give and receive, to support and strengthen each other.
It is often noted that the Hebrew words for “thanks” and “confess/admit” share an etymological root - the point being that both reflect opening up to someone else. They both involve making ourselves vulnerable to someone else.
In this way, gratitude overlaps with Brené Brown’s work, in which she makes the point that living with vulnerability allows for the empathy that opens us up to others. For example, her classic viral Ted Talk:
shame is really easily understood as the fear of disconnection: Is there something about me that, if other people know it or see it, I won’t be worthy of connection? The things I can tell you about it: it’s universal; we all have it. The only people who don’t experience shame have no capacity for human empathy or connection.
Real gratitude is scary because it means giving up the sense of security that comes with the illusion of self-sufficiency. However, when we admit that to ourselves (or to God), we gain the ability to more fully see ourselves in others who need our help, and also to see others in ourselves. In this way, gratitude brings people together in thick networks of care and empathy.
Brown makes the point that empathy and sympathy are not the same thing. Empathy is based on feeling one’s own vulnerability. Sympathy is not.
Empathy fuels connection while sympathy drives disconnection.
Empathy is I’m feeling with you. Sympathy, I’m feeling for you
Diana Butler Bass says something very similar in the context of providing for those who need:
We assume that we’re communities of gratitude, but often, we’re not. Often, gratitude is structured in congregations as quid pro quo and not generosity….
People in churches use gifts as a way of controlling communities. That is not generosity; that is turning gifts into a mechanism of oppression.
And until we get over the idea that our giving is really just another way of trying to control the universe in which we live -- that it is transactional and economic -- churches cannot be the kind of iconic community of gratitude that’s envisioned by the New Testament.
One place you see this in terms of public policy is a dismissal of a social safety net in lieu of private (or congregational) charity.
Restricting aid for the needy to private charity given to individuals feels very much like using charity as a means of control and entrenching social hierarchy.4 In Brown’s terms, it may provide sympathy for the needy, but not empathy with the needy. The perspective is “how or when should we intercede to help them?” Even if the response is generous, there is still us and them. It is not “how can we build something better together?” There is no identification with the needy. There is no vulnerability.
On the other hand, maintaining a strong social safety net feels like a social vision based on preserving each individual’s dignity. That is an empathetic perspective, based on understanding that everyone, at the end of the day, needs and benefits from a society that acts collectively on behalf of everyone.
This kind of gratitude, rooted in vulnerability, brings us much closer to the community of gratitude that DBB envisions. It is also a spiritual basis for democracy in its most idealized form.
Tithings, considered sacred, must be given to and eaten by, a priest
Of course, at this point in the story there was no indication that Jacob would have 12 sons, nor was Jacob married to four wives. Again, this is a Midrashic device to make a point.
Diana Butler Bass explains this really well, for example here
Dr. Oz recently said that the way to reduce healthcare costs is “get healthier” - essentially blaming unwell people for their conditions. According to Dr. Oz, such people may merit charity from people who are well and well-off, but there will always be a clear line between the givers and the receivers.



The distinction betwee empathy and sympathy really landed for me. When you wrote about how empathy requires feeling our own vulnerability first, it clicked why sympathy can sometimes feel hollow even when well intentioned. This reframes gratitude practices in a way that actually makes them feel relevant to building commuity rather than just personal self improvement.