Shmuel Maybruch

The Jewish pilgrim bringing his first fruits to the Temple approaches the kohen and proclaims: "I have told today to Hashem your G-d that I have entered the land that he promised to our fathers to give us…" (Deut. 26:3). The Torah continues delineating the requisite recitation. After this prologue, the farmer recalls the dawn of Jewish history, when wicked Laban attempted to stealthily annihilate Ya’akov Avinu and the fledgling nation. He then recounts Israel’s entry into Eretz Israel and concludes by acknowledging his individual agricultural success. The Mishna (Bikurim 3:10) expounds on the details of the monologue, maintaining the above preamble (verse ???) as essential. However, several classic commentators (R. Ovadya MiBartenura, Bikurim 1:1, from Maimonides’ Commentary to the Mishna; Rashi Sotah 35a, and others) omit this preface when relating the mitzvah of mikra bikurim- recitation of the bikurim monologue. Instead, they place the historical account of Ya’akov Avinu’s humble beginnings in Mesopotamia, which follows the preface in the Torah, as the beginning of the required text.

The Kuntres Ateres Aryeh by HaRav Sholom Spitz, shlit"a, concludes that this disparity between the Mishna and so many of its commentators is evidence of two distinct aspects of the bikurim narration. The actual text of the monologue indeed begins with the recollection of the past. However, it is to be preceded by a prefatory narrative acknowledging the agriculturist’s arrival into the Land of Israel (Cf. Bikurei Abba by Rabbi Abba Bronspiegel, who draws a similar distinction). These separate entities are succinctly referred to by Abarbanel in his commentary as "saying" of the introduction and "reading" of the specific text; his terminology clearly underscores this discrepancy.

Rashi, quoting the Sifrei, notes that by proclaiming the preamble, the pilgrim declares that he is not kafuy tovah – unappreciative of G-d’s blessings. The Gaon of Vilna, in Aderes Eliyahu, interprets that the Sifrei’s intent is that it is specifically the introductory verse that removes any traces of perceived ingratitude. The Ateres Aryeh conjectures that inasmuch as the purpose of the phrase is to do just that, it need not be recited according to the precise text outlined in the Torah, as long the theme of gratitude is conveyed. Consequently, although the Talmud (Sotah 32a) requires the bikurim monologue to be said in Hebrew, this restriction applies solely to the latter reading, not to the earlier undefined introduction, which can be freely expressed.

Ramban (verse 3) proposes that there is no need for the farmer to verbalize his gratitude. Rather, the bringing of the fruit itself was the Torah’s only intent when drafting an introductory statement. The act itself clearly implies acknowledgment and thanks to G-d for bringing the farmer and his nation to the Land of Israel and fulfilling his promise to our forefathers. Perhaps Ramban views the recital of the introductory phrase as the Ateres Aryeh interpreted, yet to an even further end. The recognition implied by ascending to the Temple with the first fruits is sufficient, and no recitation per se is required prior to the actual monologue.

We encounter many circumstances which require us to express gratitude to others. Yet, often we are not keen to this responsibility, or find ourselves otherwise occupied. Discussing this theme in the context of bikurim can serve to strengthen our awareness of this vital trait.

Furthermore, although the views of Rashi and Ramban differ with regard to the requirement of verbalizing thanks as part of mikra bikurim, they converge harmoniously in the general arena of hakaras hatov. Sometimes graciousness is implicit. Often, though, nothing less than a full expression of thanks is required. With proper fulfillment of the responsibilities of hakaras hatovos incumbent upon us, we will hopefully merit the promise at the end of the mitzva of bikurim – "and you shall rejoice with all the good that G-d has given you" (26:11).

By Jonathan Schwartz

The Talmud Yerushalmi (Maaser Sheni 4:5) quotes Rav Huna Bar Acha who states that the word ‘hashkifa’ (gaze downward) is always used to connote a curse, except in viduy ma’aser, where it is used as a blessing. This demonstrates the power of performing a mitzvah: it can change a curse into a blessing.

Why would viduy ma’aser be tainted with a word that essentially serves as a curse? After all, the parshah is speaking of a man who has given all his tithes to the proper people. He has satisfied the Levi. He has satisfied the poor. Where is the action that deserves the curse? Do the individual's actions not deserving an inherently positive ‘hashkifa’?

On a more fundamental level, how is the concept of viduy, a confession—the response required of one who has committed a sin, relevant to the mitzvah of ma’aser? Why does one say viduy upon removing kodesh from his possession?

Sforno explains that the viduy mentioned in this parshah is rooted in the sin of the golden calf. As a result of that sin, the avoda and priestly gifts were taken from the first-born males and given to the kohanim. This is why the owner must now remove the kodesh from his possession. As a result of the chet ha’egel, the owner can no longer give the priestly gifts to his eldest son, keeping them within his "house." Thus, the owner does viduy, or t’shuva, so that Hashem changes his original gaze of curse that followed the sin of the golden calf into a gaze of blessing. Although removing the kodesh originated as a punishment for the sin, it transforms into the person’s salvation.

At the same time, a unique opportunity for rejoicing arises. Upon completion of the mitzvah, the performer can firmly declare, "I have done all that you have commanded me to do." The mishna explains that not only has he rejoiced at the opportunity to perform the mitzvah and strengthened his ties to Hashem, but he has also shared his simcha with others. The greatness of this happiness far outweighs the somberness of the sin of the golden calf. "I have removed the kodesh from my house and yet I still feel simcha." Thus, we accent that the action was done properly—"k’chol mitzvascha asher tzivisani"—right before the ‘hashkifa’ request. By doing so we change the gaze of Hashem from one of a curse to one of blessing.

(Adapted from Enayim L’Torah, 5755)

David Bistricer

In its opening remarks on Parshas Ki Savo, the Sifrei assures that b’zechus the performance of the mitzvah of bikurim, Am Yisrael would merit entering the Promised Land. On this medrash, R. Nissin Alpert asks: how were B’nei Yisrael to earn the right to enter Eretz Yisrael if they could bring bikurim only after entering, inheriting, and cultivating the land?

R. Alpert explains that it is possible for one to physically enter the Holy Land without "coming" to Eretz Yisrael. An essential component of hava’as bikurim is an appreciation of Eretz Yisrael as the Promised Land. As each farmer declares to the kohen, "I have today told Hashem your G-d that I have come to the Land which Hashem promised to our forefathers" (Deut. 26:3). Without an appreciation of kedushas ha’aretz, one cannot be said to have "come" to Eretz Yisrael.

Similarly, the Gemara (Kesubos 111a) guarantees that "Kol hadar b’Eretz Yisrael sharuy b’lo avon—All who live in Eretz Yisrael dwell without sin." How, then, were the Jewish people sent into exile on account of their transgressions? In resolving this difficulty, the P’nei Yehoshua distinguishes between a dar, one who appreciates and internalizes the kedusha of the Holy Land, and a mere resident of the Jewish Commonwealth. While the Jewish people may have occupied the territory of Eretz Yisrael, they failed to recognize its spiritual significance and thus lost its protective power.

Although the Israelites wandering in the midbar may have been physically unable to bring their as yet unplanted crop to the Beis HaMikdash, the Torah demanded of them the same appreciation of Eretz Yisrael that would be, in later generations, cultivated by the mitzvah of bikurim. It was the merit of their admiration of the Promised Land—their understanding that they were headed to Eretz HaKedoshah—that led them to truly come to Eretz Yisrael.