Bikkurim – Fruit for Thought
The opening section of our parsha deals with the mitzvah of bikkurim – bringing the first fruits to the Bes Hamikdash. The Midrash makes the astounding statement that the continued presence of the Jewish people in the land of Israel will be based on the merit of this mitzvah. How are we to understand this?
The Jewish people’s move from the desert to the Land of Israel meant that their mode of existence would become much more physical, as they will need to become involved in earthly matters on a day-to-day basis. The ideal, of course, is to implement all the Torah values absorbed in the desert and use physical existence as a basis for higher Torah living. This, however, is easier said than done. Occupation with physical pursuits can easily become pre-occupation. There is a very real danger that over the course of time, involvement in the natural order of things will cause people to forget Who it is that is providing their sustenance. As consciousness of the Divine hand fades from the picture, physical living, which should be a means toward a higher end, is in danger of becoming an end in itself.
The antidote to this attitude is the mitzvah of bikkurim. By bringing the first fruits to the Temple, one is acknowledging Hashem as the Source of his sustenance, as the One who guided the agricultural cycle and provided the harvest. This pilgrimage to the Temple, and the declaration of awareness of Hashem’s role in guiding the forces of nature should serve to set the tone for one’s attitude toward his crops the rest of the year. As we mentioned, this awareness is absolutely crucial to life in Israel being considered a successful venture, and thus we can understand why the Midrash says that the Jewish people’s presence in the Land of Israel hinges on the mitzvah of bikkurim.
Letters, Lines and Circles
The Baal Haturim in our parsha makes the enigmatic observation that of all the letters in the aleph beis, the letter samech is missing from the section dealing with bikkurim. What is the significance of this omission?
The Hebrew word for a letter is אות (os). The word אות also means a sign. This is because every letter of the Hebrew alphabet is also a sign that represents a concept. The idea of being trapped inside the natural cycle, with no way of seeing beyond it, is represented by the letter samech. Why? The shape of the letter itself is round, representing a cycle with no perceivable beginning or end. Moreover, the numerical value of samech is sixty, which is an expanded expression of the number six, representing physical movement and activity, as per the six days of physical creation. The letter which has the numerical value of six is vav, which represents the straight line from A to B. Indeed, the letter vav means “and”, denoting the way that one activity naturally follows on from the next. The samech is thus the sum total of all of those activities; all of those individual lines join together and angle round to form a large circle which brings one back to the first act.[1]
The Talmud informs us that we can tell a lot about the character of a letter by observing the first time it appears in the Torah.[2] In our case, the Midrash points out that the letter samech first appears in the verse describing the four branches of the river which came out of the Garden of Eden. The first branch is called Pishon, and is described by the verse as, “הַסֹּבֵב אֵת כָּל אֶרֶץ הַחֲוִילָה — It surrounds the Land of Chavila.”[3] We see that the first appearance of the letter samech, in the word “hasovev,” is in the context of surrounding something. The Midrash further points out that the first time we find the letter samech in the context of human experience is when Hashem takes Eve from Adam’s flesh, and then “וַיִּסְגֹּר בָּשָׂר תַּחְתֶּנָּה — and He closed the flesh beneath it.” The samech here features in the capacity of Eve’s origin’s being closed off and unidentifiable. This is the effect of the samech circle. It renders a person unable to see beyond it and attain a sense of where things really come from.
In light of this, we can understand why the letter samech is missing from the section dealing with bikkurim, for it is, in a sense, the “anti-letter” of that mitzvah, representing the circle of sixty that we are looking to break out of. The goal of bikkurim is to see Hashem as the One Force behind the manifold natural forces. Indeed, the halachah requires that the amount of first fruits that we bring as bikkurim be “one from sixty”, for it is looking to draw out the One from the enveloping circle of sixty.[4]
Between the Gaps
Interestingly, the Baal Haturim further points out that while the letter samech itself is not present in relation to bikkurim, the number sixty is still represented by the word טנא, a basket, which is the vessel the Torah instructs bikkurim to be brought in.[5] It is very interesting that the Torah makes a point of telling us what vessel to bring bikkurim fruits in, something it does not do with other mitzvos. Why emphasize and insist on this seemingly purely logisitcal point? How is a basket different than any other vessel?
A basket has a significant characteristic; since it is woven together, there are gaps in the walls of the vessel. This means that although a cursory glance will show only the walls of the vessel, if one looks closer one can see through it. This is an amazing portrayal of us as we bring the bikkurim fruits. We are addressing the questions of “What contains us? What surrounds us? What are the forces ultimately responsible for our physical sustenance?” The forces of nature are the basket. The goal of bikkurim is to look closer and see through those walls to that which is beyond them.
Postscript: Bikkurim and Prayer
Having discussed the crucial lesson to be derived from the mitzvah of bikkurim, we must ask: From where are we to derive this message when bikkurim are no longer brought? After all, the message is ultimately about all physical living, and is as relevant to the Jewish people in exile as it is when they are in Israel!
The Midrash Tanchuma in our parsha states:
Moshe saw through Divine inspiration that in the future the Temple would be destroyed and the mitzvah of bikkurim (bringing the first fruits) would be discontinued, therefore he instituted for the Jewish people that they should pray three times every day.[6]
If the Temple will be destroyed, then every aspect of the Temple service will be discontinued, not just the mitzvah of bikkurim! Why does the absence of bikkurim specifically result in the institution of daily prayers?
R’ Moshe Chaim Luzzato in his classic work, Derech Hashem,[7] describes the descent of the soul into the physical world, a place where conditions are not conducive to spiritual pursuits, in order to achieve greater merit by fulfilling the Divine will under such adverse conditions. He then adds:
However, as much as this descent is necessary for the soul in this world, on the other hand, it is crucial that the soul not descend further than is appropriate. For the more it gets caught up in matters of this world, the more it distances itself from the ultimate Light. Now, the Creator has prepared an antidote for this concern, namely, that first a person should draw close and stand before Him, and ask of Him all his needs, and cast upon Him his lot. This will be the beginning point (ראשית) for all his earthly involvement, so that when he then goes about his endeavors, which are the various pathways of human involvement, he will not become overly enmeshed in physicality and earthliness, having preceded them by ascribing all to God.
This presentation of the idea of prayer is most profound. Through praying at the three crucial junctures of the day, a person checks in with Hashem and establishes his awareness that it is Hashem who governs the world. This should serve to set the tone for the portion of the day which follows, much as bikkurim set the same tone for the agricultural year. The bikkurim are taken from the ראשית, the first of the fruits, the very word R’ Luzzato uses to describe the effect of prayer. We thus understand why the Midrash stated that the institution of prayer was in response to the absence of bikkurim, for their function is one and the same. Prayer is to the day what bikkurim are to the year.
What is so noteworthy about this understanding of prayer is that it emphasizes that the value of prayer does not end when the person finishes praying. Rather, it continues to reverberate in every activity he engages in afterwards, until he returns to pray again. Indeed, the hallmark of a successful prayer should be that its effects are felt hours afterwards.
All of this should give us a new appreciation of the mitzvah of bikkurim, as one whose theme and message extend far beyond their particular context and find expression in every aspect of our day-to-day living in the physical world.
[1] The verse in Tehillim (32:9) exhorts: “אַל תִּהְיוּ כְּסוּס כְּפֶרֶד אֵין הָבִין – Be not like a horse, like a mule who has no understanding.” The Hebrew word for horse is סוס, which has a samech at the beginning and end and a vav in the middle. This depicts the mindset of the horse that goes through life with each individual act (vav) forming part of a closed circle (samech), beyond which he cannot see.
[2] See Bava Kama 55a
[3] Bereishis 2:11.
[4] Mima’amakim, Ki Savo.
[5] Verse 2.
[6] Cf. Berachos 26b, where other sources for the three daily prayers are presented.
[7] Sec. 4, chap. 5.
