The annual national ritual just passed is an important indicator yielding clues about our future. I am not talking about Black Friday and the economy, but rather the day before. There is an often-overlooked connection between Thanksgiving and the state of popular culture.

In the final analysis, Thanksgiving may be the most important holiday on the American calendar because of a direct relationship between gratitude and numerous individual and collective benefits.

As with its spiritual cousin forgiveness, there are self-evident therapeutic plusses when we learn to think, feel, and express thankfulness. When we regularly remind our children and grandchildren – “what do you say?” – as we present them with some sweet morsel, we are doing much more than trying to teach politeness. We are highlighting a skill that can, in fact, make the world a better place.

The Apostle Paul wrote a famous letter to a fledgling group of first-century Christians trying to live their faith against the backdrop of the world’s then most powerful city – Rome. In the epistle, he itemized the ills of society. His purpose was to prove and promote the gospel of Christ as the only real cure.

Paul described a culture sick with rampant immorality and superstitious idolatry. There are clear parallels to our present day. And reading Romans chapter one backwards – from worst case to root cause – we find a key plot-point about what greases mankind’s perpetual and predictable experience with the proverbial slippery slope.

“Neither were they thankful,” says the Apostle, highlighting the sin of ingratitude. In other words, a seemingly small discretion – maybe more of an oversight than anything else – leads to chaos and catastrophe. And history tends to repeat itself.

Therefore, Thanksgiving could very well be our most vital national observance. In the early days of our history people understood this. Leaders too. In fact, our heritage is rich with reminders about the importance of gratitude to our country’s life and health.

America’s narrative is rife with stories about Thanksgiving proclamations, gatherings, meals, traditions, football, and of course, the obligatory pardoning of a turkey by the president of these United States. School children rehearse that day long ago when the Plymouth pilgrims broke bread. We note things Lincoln said (he’s all the rage these days). And doubtless you have heard about what our first president, George Washington, declared while proclaiming the first “official” national day of Thanksgiving in 1789:

“I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enable to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.”

We hear much these days about our “Judeo-Christian” heritage and its early and enduring influence on our culture. A look back at the founding era of our nation reminds us, however, that only about 2,500 Jews actually lived in the colonies in 1776. Usually those of us who speak of that early dual influence are referring to the Christian Bible with its Jewish roots.

But pointing this out is not to say that Jews were not active and represented during the colonial and founding periods, quite the contrary – there are some fascinating and often overlooked stories.

Gershom Mendes Seixas is a case in point. He was “American Judaism’s first public figure.” In 1768, he was appointed hazzan of Congregation Shearith Israel in New York – the only synagogue serving the city’s approximately 300 residents. He was just 23 years old at the time and largely self-taught in the Talmud with much help from his devout father, though never actually an “official” rabbi. In fact, it would be several decades before a rabbi was ordained in America. Continued...