Ki Tavo: First Fruits
Original author - Leiba Chaya David, edited by the GrowTorah Summer Inchworms 2021, and Shoshi Ehrenreich
View Accompanying Source Sheet Here
Parshat Ki Tavo facilitates a look into the distant future for the generation of the midbar. With the land of Israel conquered and divided and Jewish farmers settled into the yearly cycle of growth and harvest, B’nei Yisrael will have the opportunity to fulfill a special commandment, one that applies only in the Land of Israel: bikkurim - they must take their first fruits to the Beit HaMikdash to express their gratitude to Hashem.
The first pesukim of this week’s parsha describe the ritual: “…you shall take of the first of every fruit of the ground that you bring in from your Land that Hashem, your G-d, gives you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that Hashem, your G-d, will choose…”[1] As we will explore below, the farmers were not only thanking Hashem for an abundant harvest, but also affirming the link between Hashem, themselves, Eretz Yisrael, and the collective history of the Jewish nation.
Jewish farmers, upon bringing their bikkurim, are commanded to recite a passage relating their ancestors’ journey, to and from Mitzrayim, with the Land of Israel as the culmination.
An Armanean tried to destroy my forefather. He descended to Mitzrayim and sojourned there, few in number, and there he became a nation – great, strong and numerous…Then we cried out to Hashem, the G-d of our forefathers, and Hashem heard our voice and saw our affliction, our trevail and our oppression. Hashem took us out of Mitzrayim with a strong hand and with an outstretched arm, with great awesomeness, and with signs and with wonders. He brought us to this place, and he gave us this Land, a Land flowing with milk and honey. And now behold! I have brought the first fruit of the ground that You have given me, O Hashem!...[2]
In addition to acknowledging Jewish historical continuity, the passage highlights our reliance on Hashem, particularly in the land of Israel.
In Eretz Yisrael, the most basic sense of faith stems from an agricultural dependence on Hashem. The Jewish farmer, whose livelihood is entirely dependent on Hashem’s blessing, must live in a perpetual state of faith and appreciation. This faith is even indicated in the kind of fruit farmers brought as bikkurim; they only offered the seven species for which the Land is praised—wheat, barley, grape, fig, pomegranate, olive, and date honey.[3] These species are native to Israel and are especially dependent on the blessing of rainwater for their growth.
The agricultural enterprise does more than just sharpen one’s awareness of Hashem. According to Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook,[4] it also has the power to unify the Jewish nation. Commenting on the bikkurim ceremony described by the Mishnah,[5] he writes “the first fruits symbolize the special love the nation [of Israel] has for agriculture…As opposed to the nations of the world where cohesion is fostered by trade fairs, here [in an agricultural ritual] it is built through the common denominator of pure worship of Hashem.”
On the following Mishnah, “All the professionals in Jerusalem would stand before them (the farmers) and inquire as to their welfare,”[6] Rabbi Kook comments:
…When the nation is morally depraved, when individuals’ eyes and heart are only upon money, these two types, those who engage in nature and those who engage in artifice become alienated from one another. The farmers, who dwell in villages close to nature, will be the object of disrespect on the part of the professionals who have figured out how to live by civilization divorced from nature.
In the colorful ceremony of bikkurim, which involved Jews from all walks of life, Rabbi Kook saw an opportunity to rectify the disrespect and alienation between the farmers and the townspeople. In a G-d-fearing society, each individual sector of society recognizes the relevance of the other.
Rabbi Kook is not saying that all Jews should become farmers. Rather, he is proposing that the integrity of the nation of Israel, and of humanity as a whole, is contingent upon the cosmopolitan city-dweller acknowledging his deep connection to the provincial farmer.
Today, most people are unable to trace our connection to the “provincial farmer.” Industrial agriculture is dominant and we cannot trace the natural origins of many of the things we use in our daily lives, including plastic, medicine, and even food. Our cultures are largely divorced from nature.[7] The loss of local culture—that intricate web of language, food, religion, economy, and ecology—is disastrous for both people and the planet. Wendell Berry, an American farmer and writer, suggests that “lacking an authentic local culture, a place is open to exploitation, and ultimately destruction, from the center.”[8] He advocates strengthening local economies, fostering connections between generations, deepening religious convictions, and, most importantly, building cohesive communities centered around specific places.
Jewish life during the times of the Batei Mikdash wove together religion, economy, food, language, and local ecology and was a highly integrated local culture. Today, the Jewish people no longer bring bikkurim, since the Beit HaMikdash is no longer standing. Nevertheless, bikkurim can provide us with a model for connecting with Hashem, and instill in us valuable environmental ethics.
Bikkurim shows the importance of becoming acquainted with the traditional agricultural practices of the region and supporting farmers who implement them. And even in the Galut, we can still experience a sense of partnership with Hashem by growing our own food. We can help maintain an environmentally sensible food culture by purchasing locally grown products in season. We can grow some of the seven species that might be compatible with our bioregions.
Every year upon bringing the bikkurim, the farmer announces, “Today I am affirming that I have come to the Land that G-d swore to our fathers to give us.”[9] Rashi comments that this is an expression of thanks to G-d for having given us the Land of Israel. It would make sense to give thanks upon initial entry into the Land, but why would a farmer need to repeat this every year? It must be that coming into the Land and our recognition of gratitude and Hashem’s generosity in this gift are part of an ongoing process. May we merit to continually “come into the Land,” reinforcing our commitment to it, to Hashem, and to all of the Jewish people, and may this strong bond serve as an example to all of humanity.
Suggested Action Items:
Connect to the land, and support efforts at a more sustainable relationship with agriculture. If feasible, buy food and other products that are made or grown locally and in season. Consider seeking out regenerative farms. Look into sustainable meat.
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Notes:
[1] Devarim 26:2 (translation by Artscroll Mesorah)
[2] Devarim 26:5-10 (translation by Artscroll Mesorah)
[4] Rabbi Kook (1865-1935) was the first chief rabbi of the State of Israel.
[5] Tractate Bikkurim Chapter 3, Mishna 2: “How do we bring up the first-fruits? All the people of the towns belonging to the ma’amad (convocation) gather to the city of the ma’amad and stay overnight in the city plaza. They do not enter the homes. The next morning the appointee would call: ‘Rise, let us go up to Zion, to the house of the L-rd our G-d.’”
[6] Tractate Bikkurim Chapter 3, Mishna 3
[7] See the NRDC’s guide to Industrial Agriculture here.
[8] Berry, Wendell. What Are People For?, 166. San Francisco: North Point Press, 1990.
[9] Devarim 26:3 (translation by Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan, The Living Torah)
