A Dayenu Person

            Dayenu means “it would have been enough” in Hebrew, and it is the title, and refrain, of a song that is sung every year at the Passover Seder. It’s an upbeat tune that lists all of the things we are grateful to God for in the Exodus story. Dayenu is over a thousand years old, and appears in the first medieval Hagaddah (the book used to guide the Passover Seder), so it has staying power.

            There are fifteen stanzas, all in the same format, for example: If God had only brought us out from Egypt, and had not carried out judgements against our oppressors – it would have been enough; If God had split the sea for us, and had not taken us through it on to dry land – it would have been enough; If God had given us the Torah, and had not brought us to the land of Israel – it would have been enough.

Dayenu

            The mystery of the song, for me, has always been: how can any of these things have been enough when all of them were necessary for the survival of the Jewish people? What is “enough” supposed to mean? Do we really mean it would have been enough if God had split the sea and then not allowed us to reach dry land?

I’ve been listening to the podcast For Heaven’s Sake, from the Shalom Hartman Institute, ever since October 7th, not because it gives me answers on how to view what’s going on in Israel and Gaza, but because it helps me to formulate my questions; and recently, Rabbi Doctor DonnielHartman referred to himself as a “Dayenu person” in the course of a conversation with Yossi Klein Halevy, who pronounced himself definitely not a Dayenu person, which started me thinking about what they meant by a Dayenu person, and what the tradition means by Dayenu overall.

I think what they mean by a Dayenu person is someone who is able to accept the limits of what’s possible, and to celebrate what’s achievable in the moment, even in the face of wanting, or even needing, more. If I’m using Rabbi Hartman as the model, then being a Dayenu person wouldn’t have to mean that you’ve stopped hoping for, or recognizing the need for more, because he always talks about wanting more from himself and for the Jewish people. But I think that in order to be a Dayenu person, you’d have to have faith that more good things will come, so that pausing to be grateful for your incomplete gifts wouldn’t leave you worrying that that’s all there’s ever going to be. And that sort of leaves me out.

I used to call myself an optimistic realist, because while I could see the suffering and pain in the world, I totally believed that my problems and the problems around me could eventually be solved. And I still act as if I am optimistic, but internally my expectations for my life and for the world around me have been lowered significantly; and not in the I-accept-you-as-you-are sort of way, but in the I’m-screwed sort of way.

But, the idea of being a Dayenu person resonates for me. I really do crave the feeling of having enough, and the faith that everything will be okay. I just don’t know how to get there from where I am. It feels impossible to pause in the middle of a raging sea and be grateful that I have a boat: a very small, very rickety boat. And I’ve always heard the words of Dayenu as a command to act grateful and act satisfied even when I’m not, in order to please someone else; in this case, God. But what if there’s another way to read the words of the song? What if the song is, inadvertently or intentionally, telling us that we can be grateful for each step of the journey only because we already know that all of the steps took place and we reached the Promised Land? As we sing through all fifteen verses the song can teach us how to toggle between the two mindsets: gratitude for what we have, and willingness to keep working for what needs to come next.

            One of the primary purposes of the Seder every year is to help us feel as if we personally experienced the Exodus from Egypt, and I’ve always thought that meant reminding us to be content with what we have, and not be so jealous of what someone else has been given; but I wonder if it’s also about reminding us that there is a path forward. So that if we feel like we are in the middle of a raging sea, with only a dinky little boat to cling to, singing Dayenu can remind us that this crisis moment is not the end of the journey, or even the beginning, it’s the middle; we’ve already come a long way, and, the song tells us, there are still many gifts ahead to help us on the journey.

            Maccabeats Dayenu – https://youtu.be/CZgDNPGZ9Sg?si=BOmJAcAW91Y29L4K

If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

            Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?

Unknown's avatar

About rachelmankowitz

I am a fiction writer, a writing coach, and an obsessive chronicler of my dogs' lives.

48 responses »

  1. Rachel, you bring so much humanity and wisdom to your explorations and explanations of your religious texts and customs. Thank you; I really appreciate reading these posts,

    Reply
  2. I’ve not heard this term before, and I like what it stands for. I am able to look back on my life and see my own crossing of the red sea and all that followed. I pray that some day you will be able to do the same.

    Reply
  3. What an interesting way of moving through life – Dayenu. I could be wrong but I think you do have it as an “optimistic realist.” The idea of being content with what we have knowing that isn’t the end of the story, and that we do not have to wait for the end to be thankful for what we’ve been given so far. Eleven years ago I almost died during an operation. Before that, I rarely was overtly thankful, always waiting for something else to complete the picture. Now I appreciate what is already in my grasp, and if more comes, that’s great, but if not, well that’s ok, this is enough.

    Reply
  4. And you hit the point at the end there “singing Dayenu can remind us that this crisis moment is not the end of the journey, or even the beginning, it’s the middle; we’ve already come a long way, and, the song tells us, there are still many gifts ahead to help us on the journey”

    Seems to me that is hope mixed with some faith and the wishing of faith to hold that hope in hand and any such thing is more than welcome. Most relatable.

    Nice read Rachel

    Reply
  5. Some people might think if you are not optimistic, then you must be pessimistic, but I think they are wrong. I like that term ‘optimistic realist.’ We are not crying ‘the sky is falling’ but we can hope for the best, and still accept the reality of what could happen. I think I fit that description–optimistic realist. Excellent, Rachel.

    Reply
  6. So, I see Dayenu as a sophisticated way of counting blessings by summarizing each one.

    Reply
  7. I like the idea of “are you a Dayenu person. I never thought of it like that. I hope I’m a Dayenu person, but sometimes maybe I’m not. I used to love the song as I kid because my mom’s name was Dianne and I always thought that was her song. 🙄😉

    happy Passover to you and your mom!

    Reply
  8. Knowing the God, Who doesn’t just give us enough, but often gives us more is a great way to go through life

    Reply
  9. “pausing to be grateful for your incomplete gifts wouldn’t leave you worrying” I like that thought.
    Also, I remember hearing on Hidden Brain that practicing gratitude actually makes you more likely to stand up for justice, for someone else who is not being treated well. It makes us happier to pay it forward.
    Doing some gratitude journaling has really helped me to reframe my perspective, especially at times when I need a boost to keep going (like the time I told myself I was grateful for the bad weather because I could pretend I was in a gothic tale and it sparked my imagination on a day where that made all the difference). It doesn’t have to be “big gratitude” – sometimes being grateful for a fan when it’s really hot (even though I’m worrying about global warming) is enough. It helps me stay sane instead of spiraling out of control with worry. Things become a little more manageable.
    I love the idea of this tradition. Happy Passover!

    Reply
  10. Thank you. This concept, Dayenu, gives me great hope. I think your understanding and explanation of it is beautiful.

    Reply
  11. Fascinating and insightful as always

    Reply
  12. Wow, amazing explanation.

    Reply
  13. I can certainly identify with the “I’m screwed” mindset, and the metaphor of the rickety boat certainly resonated. I tend to spend more time patching leaks and bailing out water than checking the stars and my navigation chart (give me a metaphor, I’ll beat it till it screams). Then again, if we are patching and bailing, doesn’t that mean we have some measure of optimism (and realism, too, come to think of it)? I really enjoyed this essay and hope you can enjoy some feelings of genuine gratitude sometimes.

    Reply
  14. I think an attitude of gratitude is a good thing. We can be thankful for the roof over our heads,a soft bed to sleep in, and food to fill us, even if those things are not perfect, they are still good. Many others do not have these things.

    Also, I try to remember that this life is not supposed to be perfect. I do not know whether the Jewish people believe in Heaven; I apologize that I am ignorant of this fact! I do and so I long for that life, even being grateful for what I have in this one. I hope this helps!

    Reply
  15. Happy Passover, Rachel! <3

    Reply
  16. I’m always given pause at your thoughtful explanations of what I know and have a lived experience with for so many years but thought of in a different way. I think of that part of the seder to mean that we pause to acknowledge how grateful we are for each individual blessing we received, not that it would (literally) have been enough to have one but not another. I’m seeing friend share that they are including olives for peace, a yellow ribbon for the hostages safe return, and and an extra place setting at their seder table for a missing person/hostage. What a difficult time.

    Reply
  17. This post really resonated with me, Rachel! Being a first grade teacher for dozens of years, this was a song I taught my kids each year, and it was the perfect “change the mood” song for a classroom. Fun to see little kids clapping hard and enjoying it so much! Your explanation of a Dayenu Person makes perfect sense to me. I actually learned this song from Pete Seeger’s recordings. If anyone knew about hardship and told it like it was , it was Pete. And if anyone kept a positive outlook working on cleaning up the Hudson, it was Pete. For me, this upbeat song is totally true, so long as you also speak the “other truths” loudly, as well.
    Ha! Just my two cents!
    Cheers,
    Julie

    Reply
  18. Isn’t this a wonderful concept and prayer. Maybe it’s what the modern secular concept of gratitude is all about. Thank for having shared this insight into Judaism.

    Reply
  19. Thank you, I needed this.

    Reply
  20. I just encountered a Korean War veteran in a checkout line this morning. He told me after two tours of duty as a Marine, he found each day a gift. Maybe that is one way of knowing it is enough.

    Reply
  21. The Bible says “in everything give thanks.” (1 Thes 5:18) IN…not for. This is one of my life verses. God bless.

    Reply
  22. I need to listen to “For Heaven’s Sake.”

    It is so hard to be optimistic these days, isn’t it?

    Reply
  23. This made me open the book of Ecclesiastes again. Thank you.

    Reply

Leave a comment