Thanksgiving isn't simply an American tradition; it echoes a profound connection to the ancient story of the Jewish people, a narrative of escape from oppression and gratitude upon reaching a new home. This link isn’t merely symbolic, but deeply woven into the very fabric of America’s founding principles.
The early Puritans consciously modeled themselves after the Israelites of the Hebrew Bible. They viewed England as Egypt, the perilous Atlantic Ocean as the Red Sea, and America itself as the promised land of Canaan. This fusion of biblical narrative and American aspiration became a cornerstone of the nation’s moral compass.
Benjamin Franklin even proposed a depiction for the Great Seal – Moses parting the Red Sea, a powerful image illustrating America’s perceived continuation of the Israelite journey. To understand this is to grasp a fundamental truth about the nation’s origins.
Contemporary accusations of Jewish “chosenness” as arrogance or conspiracy fundamentally misunderstand this historical context. They attack the very biblical idea that inspired America’s belief in a higher moral purpose and its sense of exceptionalism.
The concept of being “chosen” never implied superiority, but rather a profound moral responsibility – a covenant to uphold a higher standard of conduct. Both the Pilgrims and the nation’s founders embraced this belief, seeing America as chosen not for privilege, but for purpose.
The first Thanksgiving wasn’t a celebration of abundance, but a desperate act of gratitude for survival. Governor William Bradford recorded the Pilgrims falling to their knees, thanking God for delivering them across the “vast and furious ocean,” mirroring the language of Deuteronomy. Half the colony perished that first winter.
However, this foundational story is increasingly distorted. Some twist the idea of a “chosen nation” into a justification for exclusion and racial destiny, limiting the “Promised Land” to those who conform to specific beliefs or appearances. Others, on the far left, recast both the American and Israeli stories as narratives of colonial theft.
Both of these interpretations miss a crucial point: the Exodus story teaches that true freedom is rooted in faith, gratitude, and justice. These aren’t merely ideals, but essential components of a free society.
Jewish leaders have long recognized this connection. The Rebbe, a prominent spiritual leader, identified a spiritual kinship between Thanksgiving and Judaism, even designating it a *Yom Tov*, a day of joy. To be Jewish, *Yehudi*, is fundamentally to give thanks.
Gratitude, in Hebrew (*hodaa*), encompasses not only thankfulness but also acknowledgment – a humbling recognition of something beyond oneself. This humility was once a unifying force within the nation.
The Israelites didn’t thank God for comfort, but for survival. The Pilgrims echoed this sentiment, offering gratitude not for plenty, but for Providence. Giving thanks affirms our dependence on something greater than tribalism or ideology, while forgetting it breeds division and animosity.
Thanksgiving transcends a mere cultural holiday; it offers a remedy for the forces that divide us. Believers and skeptics alike should remember that America’s beginning was rooted in gratitude, not power.
A visit to the Touro Synagogue in Newport, Rhode Island, and George Washington’s 1790 letter to its congregation, powerfully illustrates this point. Washington’s words – wishing safety and peace for the Jewish community – weren’t simply a gesture of reassurance, but a definition of the American promise.
Washington understood that gratitude, not power, secures freedom. Thanksgiving serves as a vital reminder that liberty endures only when we acknowledge the source of our blessings and offer thanks for the freedoms we enjoy.
The founders envisioned America as a reborn Israel, not a restored Rome. Our unity was once grounded in humility before a higher power, a principle that remains essential to the enduring strength of the nation.
