Friday, August 27, 2021

Parshas Ki Tavo: Of Course You Need A Basket

Parshas Ki Tavo begins with the mitzvah of Bikkurim, the offering of the first fruits. It is not the first time that the mitzvah of Bikkurim is mentioned in the Torah, but it is the only section in which the ceremony is described in detail. The specifics - taking one’s first fruits of the Promised Land to the Kohein in the House of the Lord and reciting a special declaration – are generally well-known from the holiday of Shavuos and from the annual reading of the Bikkurim declaration as part of the text of the Haggadah. Familiar as the mitzvah may be, there is always something new to be found in the familiar words of the Torah…

The mitzvah of Bikkurim is introduced thus: “When you enter the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a heritage, and you possess it and settle in it, you shall take some of every first fruit of the soil, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you, put it in a basket and go to the place where the Lord your God will choose to establish His name” (Devarim 26:1-2).

Bringing the first fruit of the harvest makes sense as an offering; it is almost instinctual. In fact, the very first offering to Hashem was an offering of produce brought by Kayin the son of Adam, who was a farmer (as opposed to Hevel, who was a shepherd). While the requirement of a fruit offering is logical, the wording of the pasuk itself is odd in that it in includes the instruction v’samta va’tene, and you shall place them in a basket. Once might assume, and perhaps it was so in practicality, that one would buy a nice basket in Jerusalem (or close to the designated spot before the Beis Hamikdash was complete). But the pasuk is rather straightforward – “You shall place it in the basket and [THEN] you shall go to the place.”

 The question here is why is it necessary to include an instruction to put the fruit in a basket? Since no one was walking to Jerusalem holding a collection of figs in their hands, it seems obvious that the fruit needs to be put in something. So here we learn that the Bikkurim are not just to be put in any vessel on hand, but specifically in a Tene.

This term, tene, is found 4 times in the chumash, and all of them are in Parshas Ki Tavo – twice in perek 26, in the direct commandment, and twice in perek 28, as part of the blessings and the curses and as an obvious reference to the harvested first fruits. It is therefore apparent that a tene is a rather unique basket. By definition, according to the sages, it was a fairly simply basket woven together from willow branches. Taking an esoteric turn, one might note the oddness of the shoresh (root of the word) Tes – Nun – Aleph, since words that start with Tes are uncommon, as are words that end with Aleph, and one might notice how these three letters are all firmly rooted to the ground, like a tree.*

The inclusion of the instruction to place the fruit in the tene tells us that there is significance to this act in and of itself. Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsh comments, based on Sifri, that by placing that bikkurim in a basket specifically created for this demonstrates that these fruits are to be transported elsewhere.  Rabbi Sholom Wineberg, based on the teaching of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (on Chabad.org), notes that the nature of the tene limits the amount of fruit that one can bring, which reflects  the Baal HaTurim’s discussion that since the numeric value of the letters of tene add up to 60, one should bring 1/60th. Finally of interest here, Chizkuni comments that one adds dignity to carrying the fruit on the pilgrimage by carrying it in a special container.

 While the tene may have been intended as a simple basket of woven willow, the Mishne describes the ceremony thus: “The rich would bring their bikkurim in baskets overlaid with silver or gold, while the poor used wicker baskets of peeled willow-branches, and the baskets and the bikkurim were given to the priests” (Mishnayos Bikkurim 3:3). It starts with a simple basket made of willow in which to carry the fruit and then, in time, the baskets get fancier until eventually those who can (or think they can) are bringing baskets covered in silver and gold. Whether the intention was the honest desire to enhance the mitzvah or a more selfish urge of one-upmanship, the fancier baskets actually changed the ceremony, as described in Talmud Baba Kama 9a, where it notes that when the Kohanim were given the bikkurim of the wealthy, they returned their baskets to them, but when they received the baskets of the poor, these baskets were kept.

 One might go back to simple wordplay and note how similar in sound tene (Tes-Nun-Aleph) is to the command form of the word Give, Ten (Taf-Nun). The silver and gold overlay ultimately kept one from giving the entire offering to Hashem, since it says: “You shall go to the priest in charge at that time and say to him, ‘I acknowledge this day before the Lord your God that I have entered the land that the Lord swore to our fathers to assign us. The priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down in front of the altar of the Lord your God” (Devarim 26:3-4). The Kohein is meant to take the basket too, but such an enhanced basket is no longer its pure natural element. It is less connected to the offering which it carries.

 As we approach the High Holidays, perhaps there is a lesson that we can take from the mitzvah of bikkurim and the history of this uniquely named basket. On the Yomim Noraim (the Days of Awe), we bring ourselves before Hashem. Now is not the time to overlay ourselves with silver and gold, either physically or spiritually. Enhance the Yom Tov by dressing nice, but not for a fashion show. Prepare yourself for the Yom HaDin (Day of Judgement) by coming forward honestly, not with your actions overlaid by pretty rationalizations.

 The mitzvah of Bikkurim is one which we can only complete in the Promised Land in the days when Hashem once again choose a place to establish His name (bimhera b’yameinu/speedily in our days!) But the lessons we can take from the mitzvah are with us every day.

 

*There is a fascinating discussion of the etymology of the word, perhaps it even being an Egyptian word, but Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein once could read here: https://ohr.edu/yhiy/article.php/8981?showobject=1

 

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