Personally Connecting to Birkat HaMazon

A Joke
Q: When G-d plays Tic-Tac-Toe with the Jewish people, which letter does G-d take?
A: The X’s, because “Adoshem ohz l’amo yitein”.
(Literally: “G-d will give strength (ohz) to G-d’s people”, but could also be read as “G-d will give O’s to G-d’s people”).

Birkat HaMazon “on one foot”:
Birkat HaMazon is the blessing we say after we eat, thanking G-d for the food. It started off as a set of blessings, and then people improvised texts to be said before each blessing. The improvisations that other people liked stuck and became the text we have today.

For a sheet about Shir HaMa’alot, with which we start Birkat HaMazon on Shabbat and other festive occasions, see here: https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/313976?lang=bi

Leader: Friends, let us thank God.
Everybody else: Praised is the name of the Lord from now and forever.
Leader: Praised is the name of the Lord from now and forever. With your permission, let us thank (our) God whose food we have eaten.
Everybody else: Praised is (our) God whose food we have eaten and through whose goodness we live.
Leader: Praised is (our) God whose food we have eaten and through whose goodness we live.
Leader and Everybody else: Praised is God and praised is God’s name.

A cappella recording: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1u-ohWpTX8IXdMwZnQI28Ws1enO_4qYYP/view?usp=drivesdk

Food for Thought
From: Why Be Different: A Look into Judaism, by Janice Prager and Arlene Lepoff
Mona Dechalet, the new French ambassador, had just arrived in Washington D.C. As she and her husband, Pierre, stepped off the plane, they were met by Alex Wagner of the State Department.
“I’ve been assigned to show you around town,” Alex said. “I think you’ll love Washington – it’s a very exciting city.”
“Fine,” said the ambassador. “When do we start?”
“Well, why don’t you take the afternoon to unwind, and I’ll pick you up tonight at around 8:30. We’ll go to the finest restaurant in the capitol.”
As soon as the French ambassador, her husband, and Alex arrived at La Cuisine, they were greeted by the headwaiter who promptly escorted them to “the best table in the house.”
“The service here is excellent, Alex,” the ambassador commented after they had ordered dinner.
“Just wait, Madam Ambassador. The food is even better.”
“Just as Alex had promised, the dinner was superb. And over coffee and delicious French pastries, Mona Dechalet thanked her American host.
“Thanks so much, Alex. The food was as exceptional as at our favorite restaurant in Paris.”
“It was truly my pleasure. But I’m not the one to be thanked,” Alex replied. We should all thank the genius in the kitchen.”
So Alex called the headwaiter and asked if they could see the chef. Soon the chef, a large figure in white hat and apron, came out.
“Your kind words to me are most appreciated,” the chef said to the three guests at the table. “But I am not the one to thank. Do you really want to thank the one responsible for this meal?”
Around the table, three heads nodded in agreement.
“Then come with me in about half an hour, when the restaurant closes. We will all go to the vegetable market.”
“Wonderful,” exclaimed Alex. “We can all go in the State Department limousine.” Seeing everyone’s excitement, the head waiter asked if he, too, could come along. And now there were five people, all in high spirits, driving to the vegetable market. At the outskirts of the city, they stopped at a large produce stand.
“I want you to meet my friend, Joe,” said the chef. “He is the one who provides me with the fruit and vegetables that you so enjoyed. This man works harder than anyone else to get the freshest fruit and the tastiest vegetables. Joe, these good people want to thank you.”
“That’s right,” said Alex. “The chef says you’re responsible for the delicious meal we all enjoyed tonight.”
“Not me,” Joe said. “If you really want to know who’s responsible, then I can take you to see another man – he’s the one you ought to be thanking. I’ll take you to him if you want, but we’ll have to drive most of the night to get there.”
“Let’s go,” said the ambassador. “This is fun. I never dreamed that Americans have such wild and entertaining evenings.”
The group, now including Joe, the chef, the headwaiter, Alex, Mona, and Pierre, piled into the limo and drove into the quiet darkness of farm country. By the time they arrived at Arthur’s Vegetable Far, the first light of dawn was warming the fields.
“What a beautiful country!” Mona whispered to her husband.
“C’mon gang,” Joe said. “Let’s go meet Arthur, the farmer.”
The group walked toward the farmhouse. But they were stopped by what they saw through the open window. The farmer and his family were sitting around a table. “Have you all washed your hands?” the farmer was asking. “Good. Then Jonathan, please lead us in the blessing.”
“OK, Dad,” said a little boy, about seven years old. “Thank you, G-d, for giving us these fruits and vegetables and this fine breakfast. Amen.”
The farmer lifted his head. He saw the group standing outside the window. “Joe!” he said. “What are you doing here so early in the morning? And who are those people with you?”
Six people stood there, silently, watching the farmer and his family. Not one of them could speak. Finally, Alex broke the silence.
“We had come here to thank you for providing the delicious fruits and vegetables that went into our meal last night at La Cuisine. But now I think we all see things in a different way.”
“Yes,” said the ambassador. “This great country has courteous waiters, skilled chefs, fine produce buyers and talented farmers. But now we realize that none of them is really responsible for the delicious dinner we had last night.”
Questions for Discussion:

• Who really produced the fruits and vegetables? Why is it important to know the answer?
  
• What was the biggest difference between those who ate at the restaurant and those who ate at the farm table?
  

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• Given who ultimately produced the fruits and vegetables, what is the best way of saying thank you?