ויען אברהם ויאמר הנה נא הואלתי לדבר אל אדני ואנכי עפר ואפר
Avraham answered and said, “Behold now I desired to speak to my L-rd although I am but dust and ash.” (Bereishis 18:27)
Rashi explains that Avraham said to Hashem, “I was already fit to become dust in the hands of the kings and ash in the hands of Nimrod, were it not for Your mercy that stood on my behalf.”
According to Rashi, Avraham’s words were in the past tense, “I should have become dust; I should have been ash.” The pasuk, however, uses the present tense: “I am dust and ash.” Why?
Perhaps we can suggest the following. A person who survives a serious accident or life-threatening illness usually undergoes a psychic change. Promises of “I’ll never miss another tefillah be’tzibbur,” or “I’ll never speak lashon hara again,” are par for the course. Based on his experience, one cannot help but feel moved and motivated to change. And at the time, he means what he says.
But more often than not, those feelings change. The intensity of the gratitude slowly wanes, withers, and finally dissipates. The person’s acknowledgment of what he owes Hashem — something that previously was first and foremost in his heart and mind — becomes yesterday’s news. All promises and resolutions fall by the wayside. This is because a person normally focuses on the feeling he had after being saved, in contrast to the focus of what would have been if Hashem had not saved him.
If an unemployed person finally lands a job, he views his employer as an angel of mercy and his level of gratitude is very high. There are no words to describe his gratitude; he went from living life as a burden to society to enjoying the life of a productive worker. But as time goes on, that elation passes and he says to himself, “I’ve been working here for six months already; this job is getting to me.” He is comparing his first day on the job with his 180th day, and this distinction is not that compelling.
But if his focus is not on the day he got the job, but the day before — when he was still unemployed — his feelings of gratitude will not wane. He compares being unemployed with having a decent job. That contrast is not based on the intoxicating thrill of the first days on the job, a thrill that will no doubt pass, but on a reality of: “I have a job today, when last year I was a broke and broken man.” That sense of gratitude is a feeling he can relive every day.
With thoughts focused not on what was, but on what would have been, keeping the gratitude fresh and green becomes not only realistic but downright simple. Contemplating facing life as a cripple versus being fully bipedal is a difference one can never forget.
But if all I do is focus on the problems I have had since surviving that car wreck or operation, I will be a grumbling, ungrateful malcontent, griping till my dying day. The elation and feelings that I had on that day will not sustain me into the future.
Avraham taught us this important lesson in hakaras hatov — how to never lose the feeling of gratitude. Rather than say, in the past tense, “I should have been dust and ash,” he said, “I am dust and ash,” in the present tense. To Avraham, gratitude was in relation to what should have been — but for the miracle of Hashem.
The same feelings that Avraham had when he walked off the field of battle and out of the fiery furnace did not dissipate with the sands of time. (R’ Avraham Bukspan, Classics and Beyond 1)
