Can I, as a Jew in America, Celebrate Thanksgiving with a Clear Conscience?

 From the beginning, Thanksgiving in America has been a civic day of national gratitude—not a church holy day. President George Washington’s 1789 proclamation framed it as a public act of thanks by the nation: “It is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits… Now therefore 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… for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed.”

It’s important to understand that, despite his declaration of gratitude to God, the country was founded upon the principle of religious freedom. Therefore, his statement was not an act of homage to any specific deity or particular god. Rather, it was an expression — a heartfelt acknowledgment — of gratitude to Hashem, recognizing the Divine Providence that made possible the foundation and establishment of such a great nation.

A nation unlike those governed under the heavy and burdensome rule of the European powers — a rule under which their forefathers had once labored and suffered.

This expression of thankfulness was not about religion in the formal sense, but about the recognition of freedom itself — the freedom to worship, to live, and to build a land unshackled by oppression.

President Abraham Lincoln’s 1863 proclamation then fixed it as an annual national observance of unity and gratitude: “I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens in every part of the United States… to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens.”

In 1941, Congress passed it into federal law as a legal public holiday, now permanently the fourth Thursday in November. It sits in U.S. statute alongside Election Day and other national observances—secular, civic, not religious. The day exists because the government declared a national pause for gratitude, not because any church established it.

Halakhically, the issue is always the same verse: “u’v’chukoteihem lo teleichu.” But our mesorah is clear that this prohibition applies to idolatrous or purposeless imitation, not to neutral or reasonable civic activity. The Rema writes in Yoreh De’ah 178:1: “All of this applies only to practices done for licentiousness… or customs observed with no reason… But customs done for a clear reason—honor or any other reason—are permissible.” A national day of gratitude, fixed by civil law, with no idolatrous content and no religious ritual, fits exactly into the category the Rema permits: a practice with a clear, non-idolatrous purpose.

Rav Moshe Feinstein names Thanksgiving directly. In Igrot Moshe, Even HaEzer II:13 (1963): “The first day of the year for them [January 1] and Thanksgiving are not prohibited by law, but pious people [ba’alei nefesh] should be strict.” In Orach Chaim V:20 he adds: “Since it is clear that according to their religious law books this day is not mentioned as a religious holiday… [therefore it is not prohibited].” His one boundary is not to turn it into a Jewish ritualor establish it as an obligation. A secular meal of thanks is permitted; inventing a new “mitzvah of Thanksgiving” is not.

Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, recorded in Nefesh HaRav (p. 231), ruled: “It was the opinion of Rabbi Soloveitchik that it was permissible to eat turkey at the end of November, on the day of Thanksgiving… and that eating it on Thanksgiving was not a problem of imitating gentile customs,” and Rav Schachter notes that this was also the view of Rav Moshe Soloveitchik. Rav Ephraim Greenblatt writes that it is permissible to eat turkey on Thanksgiving “because Thanksgiving is only a day of thanks and not, Heaven forbid, for idol celebration,” citing Rav Eliezer Silver in agreement. Rav Yehuda Herzl Henkin (Benei Banim II:30) states: “It is clear that halacha does not consider Thanksgiving to be a religious holiday,” adding that one may even choose to skip it some years simply to make clear that no mitzvah or chovah is involved.

This is why I pasken leniency here: a day of hakarat ha-tov toward a nation that gave our people refuge does not create a new chag, does not add to the Torah, and does not imitate a foreign religion. It is civic gratitude—no more religious than respecting traffic laws or standing for the national anthem. If anything, gratitude is one of the deepest middot of Torah. We are commanded to remember those who helped us, to speak thanks, and to cultivate a heart that recognizes blessing.

My gratitude here is not symbolic. After the Holocaust, the United States opened its doors through the Displaced Persons Act and related measures, admitting hundreds of thousands of refugees, including tens of thousands of Jewish survivors. We built synagogues, yeshivot, schools, businesses, and communities here. The United States recognized the State of Israel within minutes of its birth, and has remained its strongest ally for decades, including in matters of security, military aid, and hostage rescue. None of that replaces our eternal bond with HaShem or with Eretz Yisrael. But gratitude to a nation that sheltered us is not betrayal—it is derekh eretz and simple decency.

Hakarat ha-tov = Recognizing good + expressing gratitude + not acting like we “deserve” everything we receive.

Recognizing good: It’s considered a foundational middah (character trait) in Torah life, because someone who cannot recognize good from people will not truly recognize good from HaShem.

So yes, I can sit with family, eat a kosher meal, say “thank You” to HaShem for life, safety, and opportunity, and express appreciation for the land that helped rebuild us. No rituals, no new blessings, no “Jewish Thanksgiving service,” no invented minhag. Just gratitude. And gratitude is never outside Torah.

Every day is a day to thank HaShem. This one happens to be a day when the whole country says, “Stop and think about what you’ve been given.” I can do that without confusion, without guilt, without compromising halakhah, and without pretending it is more than what it is: a quiet secular pause for gratitude in the land HaShem brought us to when we were broken and homeless.

And yes—we know our story does not end here. May the same HaShem who carried us into safety carry us home to Zion in peace, speedily in our days. Amen.