Throughout its history, the members of Shearith Israel have

Rabbi Meir Soloveichik proclaimed with reverence: “Throughout its history, the members of Shearith Israel have observed Thanksgiving by reciting in synagogue the same psalms of praise and gratitude sung by Jews all over the world on festive days like Hanukkah.” At first hearing, these words appear a note of ritual, a detail of custom. Yet beneath them flows a river of wisdom, carrying themes of memory, faith, and belonging. For what he describes is not merely a service, but the binding of an ancient people to a new land, the weaving of timeless faith into the fabric of America.

The origin of this saying lies in the story of Congregation Shearith Israel, the first Jewish congregation in the United States, founded in New Amsterdam in the 1650s. Its members, Sephardic Jews fleeing persecution, found a home in the New World. When America declared its independence and later proclaimed Thanksgiving as a national day, Shearith Israel joined in—not by feasting alone, but by lifting the ancient psalms of praise. Thus, they sanctified a civic celebration with sacred tradition, showing that gratitude to God transcends time, place, and nation.

In this, we see the deeper meaning: the Jewish people, long scattered among nations, carry with them a faith that adapts without breaking. When in Spain, they sang their psalms; when in Babylon, they sang their psalms; when in New York, they sang their psalms. And so, at Thanksgiving, they embraced America’s call to gratitude by clothing it in the familiar garments of their eternal liturgy. This is the wisdom of survival: to honor the new, yet anchor it in the old.

History gives us many such examples of peoples uniting the ancient with the new. Consider the early Christians of Rome, who took the language of the empire—Latin—and filled it with their prayers and hymns, thereby transforming the tongue of Caesar into the voice of the Church. Or think of the Native peoples of this continent, who, though ravaged by loss, still lift songs of thanks at harvest, blending their traditions into the modern world. Each of these echoes the truth: a people endure when they preserve their voice even as they join in the chorus of nations.

The psalms of praise mentioned by Soloveichik are not mere poems, but eternal songs that lift the heart beyond the temporal. To recite them on Thanksgiving is to declare that gratitude is not an invention of one land or one government, but the universal duty of the soul. Whether for deliverance from Egypt, survival in exile, or freedom in a new republic, the psalms are the voice of thanksgiving that all generations can utter together. Thus, the Jews of Shearith Israel remind us that the truest thanksgiving is not only to one another, but to the Creator who grants life and liberty.

The lesson for us is luminous: gratitude must be anchored, practiced, and sanctified. It is not enough to say we are thankful; we must embody it in ritual, in song, in shared remembrance. Families at their tables, communities in their houses of worship, individuals in their solitude—all must cultivate this habit of giving thanks, not just once a year, but daily. For gratitude is the antidote to despair, the foundation of hope, and the seed of joy.

Therefore, O listener, take Soloveichik’s words as a charge: when you gather for Thanksgiving, do not let it be only food and merriment. Lift also a prayer, a song, a word of thanks. Remember the ancient psalms, or if not those, then your own words of praise. In doing so, you join a chain stretching across centuries and continents, from Jerusalem to New Amsterdam to the present day. And know this: a nation that remembers to give thanks is a nation that will endure, just as a people who sanctify gratitude have endured against all odds. Give thanks, and live in thanksgiving always.