The practice of “blessing” is an important aspect of every major religious tradition as well as a variety of secular ones. That said, a case could be made that the giving and receiving of blessings has been part of the human experience since the beginning and is hard-wired into our spiritual DNA. Within the Christian tradition, for example, there are a variety of rituals involving blessings, rituals generally performed by ordained clergy. In Hinduism, blessings are regularly offered during Puja, the central rite performed by Hindus to honor various deities, distinguished persons, and even special guests. Buddhist practitioners frequently ask for blessings from the Buddha or other enlightened beings in their devotional practices. Observant Jews recite dozens of blessings every day, with proscribed blessings for virtually every facet of life from waking in the morning to going to sleep at night. Muslims around the world greet one another with a blessing every time they meet and part, saying “may peace, mercy, and the blessings of Allah be upon you.” Indeed, we can see how pervasive the practice of blessing is as a human activity from the fact that most of us – including many atheists – routinely say “Bless you” whenever someone sneezes.

With the approach of this Thanksgiving, among the most challenging many of us have ever experienced, I’ve been reflecting a good deal on this theme of blessing. In particular, I’ve been exploring three different perspectives on this universal spiritual practice. The first of these approaches to thinking about blessing is also the most obvious one, namely the experience of recognizing and counting our blessings, of periodically reflecting on all the countless ways, large and small, in which our lives have been and continue to be blessed. I call this most basic understanding of blessing having blessings.

The second perspective on blessing, which emerges as a response to the first, is the practice of expressing thanks for the gifts we have been blessed with, of saying blessings. Of course, another name for this perspective is gratitude. Many of us learned as children to always say “thank you” whenever we received gifts, a trait we need at least as much when we’re adults.  Indeed, gratitude has often been considered the most important and powerful of spiritual and philosophical practices. For example, nearly two thousand years ago the Roman philosopher Cicero wrote “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues but the parent of all others.” And as the medieval Christian mystic Meister Eckhart observed more than a thousand years after Cicero, “If the only prayer you said was “thank you,” that would be enough.”

Though these first two ways of thinking about blessing – having them and saying them – are fairly familiar to most of us, there is a third and, I believe, far more impactful way of understanding both the power and the purpose of blessing, namely that of being blessings.

When I reflect this Thanksgiving on what it means to be a blessing, I think of all the people, friends and neighbors as well as total strangers, who have offered assistance to those more vulnerable than themselves. I think of all the poll workers and others who toiled tirelessly to ensure a free and fair presidential election, thereby redeeming our precious democracy. I think of all the people who bravely risked the prospect of violence from both police and right-wing vigilantes to protest systematic racism in our country. Finally, and most especially, I think of the many thousands of healthcare and other essential workers who on a daily basis risk their safety and their lives in service to the wellbeing of the rest of us. Each one of these individuals is a blessing and I am deeply grateful for every one of them.

Tomorrow we will celebrate Thanksgiving, a holiday whose very name speaks of the offering and receiving of blessings. And it’s not just any Thanksgiving we observe this year, but Thanksgiving in a time of pandemic. We are struggling with the demands of social distancing and the reality that we cannot share the company of loved ones and friends this year without endangering both them and us. In addition, this Thanksgiving we’re also coping with a growing sense of loss and grief for the hundreds of thousands who have died or been left disabled by this terrible disease. We’re also mourning the many treasured aspects of both personal and communal life we’ve had to forego because of the pandemic. In short, this is a Thanksgiving in which it’s easier to focus on loss and sacrifice – what’s missing from our lives – rather than on appreciating and being grateful for the blessings that we still enjoy.

That said, we have never experienced a Thanksgiving that more powerfully calls on to us acknowledge our blessings and express our gratitude for them. As novelist Cynthia Ozick wisely observes, “We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.” Of course, taking our gifts for granted – especially the humblest and simplest of them – is easier to do in times of ease and plenty than when life is at its darkest and most challenging. On the other hand, it is in times of hardship that our everyday blessings feel most precious to us and the act of being thankful for them most satisfying.