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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT KI TAVO

By Rav David Silverberg

            Parashat Ki-Tavo presents the mitzva known as viduy ma’aser, requiring one to make a verbal declaration once in three years, avowing his compliance with all the Torah’s laws concerning terumot u-ma’aserot (the various tithes owed each year).  This declaration concludes with a prayer for continued blessing and prosperity: “Look down from Your sacred abode, from the heavens, and bless Your nation, Israel, and the land that You have given us” (26:15).

            The Midrash (Shemot Rabba 41) notes the unusual word hashkifa (translated in our citation as “look down”) used in this verse.  According to the Midrash, the verb sh.k.f. generally connotes looking upon a certain location for the purpose of causing harm.  (See, for example, Bereishit 18:16 and Shemot 14:24.)  Why, then, would the Torah require employing specifically this term when praying for agricultural prosperity?  The Midrash explains that those who fulfill all their obligations with respect to terumot and ma’aserot have the power to transform the evil implied by the word hashkifa into blessing.  Now that the individual has satisfactorily fulfilled his requirements, he approaches God and asks that in this merit, God’s anger should be assuaged and any evil decrees should be transformed into blessings of success and abundance.

            The Netziv, in his Ha’amek Davar, raises the question of why the Torah assumes the prospect of evil that requires the transformational effects of the laws of ma’aserot.  The Midrash’s interpretation of hashkifa implies that God’s anger is aroused, and the individual reciting the viduy must therefore invoke the power of this mitzva to arouse divine compassion in its place.

            The Netziv explains that the Torah wants to prevent the individual from feeling a sense of absolute satisfaction in his achievement.  As one completes the process of terumot u-ma’aserot and prepares to recite this declaration, he will likely take pride in his meticulous compliance with these laws, and feel entitled to demand that God shower His blessings upon him.  The Netziv writes that this is not the proper response to religious achievement.  A person may never feel that he has reached perfection; there is always some room for improvement.  The Torah therefore has the farmer pray specifically with the term hashkifa, as a reminder that he cannot necessarily rely on his meritorious conduct in beseeching God for prosperity.  Regardless of our accomplishments for which we rightfully should feel a degree of pride, there are still flaws that require correction, and we can come before the Almighty only by humbly asking, “hashkifa” – that He look favorably upon whatever merits we have accrued, and enable them to transform any harsh decrees into decrees of life, health and success.

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            Yesterday, we discussed the final verse of viduy ma’aser – the declaration that the Torah requires one to make every three years upon completing his separation of terumot and ma’aserot, avowing his compliance with the laws regarding tithes.  In the final sentence of this declaration, the individual prays for agricultural blessing, asking, “Hashkifa” – that God “look down” from the heavens and bless His nation.  According to the Midrash (Shemot Rabba 41), the word hashkifa has a connotation of doom and destruction.  When this term is used to describe God “looking down” upon a person or nation, it generally refers to a divine decree of calamity.  This word is used here in viduy ma’aser, the Midrash explains, because the merit of the mitzva of tithing has the capacity to transform harsh decrees into blessings of success and prosperity.  Yesterday, we dealt with the question of why the Torah (as understood by the Midrash) assumes that a harsh decree is already in place when a farmer declares viduy ma’aser in an attempt to have the decree reversed.

            Rav Avraham Yitzchak Sorotzkin, in his Rinat Yitzchak, suggests an explanation based on a controversial position of the Minchat Chinukh (607) concerning viduy ma’aser.  Many writers have addressed the question of why this declaration is traditionally referred to with the term viduy, which generally means “confession.”  The viduy ma’aser declaration involves the exact opposite of a “confession,” as through it one announces that he has satisfactorily performed all the obligations cast upon him.  In fact, in this declaration the individual proclaims, “Asiti ke-khol asher tzivitani” – “I have done in accordance with everything You have commanded me” (26:14).  The Minchat Chinukh therefore explains that viduy ma’aser is required only if one had been negligent with regard to his tithing obligations.  In this section, the Torah demands that a person with outstanding ma’aser obligations settle his accounts by the end of the third and sixth years of the seven-year agricultural cycle, and then come forth to avow his compliance.  Quite appropriately, then, tradition has dubbed this declaration viduy ma’aser, as it entails a confession of negligence which was then rectified through the process of bi’ur ma’aserot (separating all outstanding ma’aser produce).

            Accordingly, Rav Sorotzkin suggests, we can easily understand why the term hashkifa is used in this context.  The individual’s negligence in paying his dues had indeed aroused divine anger, which hangs over him ominously, as implied by the term hashkifa.  Even so, the merit of his ultimate compliance with the ma’aser requirements can overturn the evil decree and bring him blessing and prosperity.  He therefore appeals to the Almighty to accept his overdue payments, as it were, and reverse the harsh decrees issued against him.

            This approach to viduy ma’aser and the concept alluded to by the word hashkifa can perhaps be applied to the current period of the year – the month of Elul, the weeks just prior to the Yamim Nora’im (High Holidays).  To one extent or another, we are all under the category of meshaheh ma’asrotav – those who have negligently delayed their tithes.  We have neglected some of our responsibilities, and have outstanding obligations that remain unfulfilled.  The sound of the shofar blast during Elul is meant to awaken us to the reality of hashkifa – that the day of judgment draws near, at which point an accounting will made of our achievements and failures during the year, and God will issue His sentence accordingly.  Our goal during these final weeks before Rosh Hashanah is to thoroughly search our “warehouses” and determine which “payments” still need to be made, so that when we recite viduy on Yom Kippur, we will, in addition to confessing to our initial negligence, proudly declare, “Asiti ke-khol asher tzivitani.”

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            Parashat Ki-Tavo begins with the mitzva of bikkurim, requiring a farmer to bring his first fruits to the Beit Ha-mikdash and give them to the kohen.  The Torah states that one brings the fruits “el ha-kohen asher yihyeh ba-yamim ha-hem” (“to the kohen who will be around in those days”).  In explaining this phrase, Rashi, citing from the Sifrei, writes, “You have only the kohen of your time, whoever he may be.”  The Sifrei adds in this context the verse (Kohelet 7:10), “Do not say: how could it be, that the former times were better than these?”  Apparently, the Sifrei interpreted this phrase as indicating that one should bring his fruits to the kohen even if he is of lower stature and has less impressive credentials than the kohanim of yesteryear.

            However, the Ramban correctly notes the obvious difficulty in this interpretation.  To whom else would the farmer consider bringing his bikkurim other than a kohen of that generation?  Why would the Torah find it necessary to emphasize that one must accept his generation’s kohanim regardless of whether or not they match up to their predecessors?  The Ramban mentions a similar comment of Chazal regarding a verse earlier in Sefer Devarim (17:9), where the Torah speaks of consulting with the halakhic authorities to resolve and settle doubts and disputes.  In that context, Chazal understandably interpreted the phrase “asher yihyeh ba-yamim ha-hem” as emphasizing the need to accept the generation’s leaders even if their caliber pales in comparison to the giants of yesteryear.  But why would such a comment be necessary in this context?

            The Ramban therefore cites what appears to be a different text of the Sifrei, according to which the Torah is speaking about the personal status of kehuna, rather than spiritual caliber.  The Torah here instructs the farmer to bring his bikkurim to any kohen with a presumed lineage and status of suitability for the priesthood.  The Ramban explains the Sifrei’s comment (in his version of the text) to mean that even if it is later discovered that a kohen who received bikkurim is in fact does not qualify for the priestly service, the farmer has nevertheless fulfilled his obligation, and he need not bring bikkurim again.

            By contrast, the Keli Yakar suggests a possible explanation for the Sifrei’s comment as cited by Rashi.  A farmer might have considered reserving his bikkurim for a kohen of a certain caliber, and if no such kohen was administering in the Temple at that time, he should perhaps delay bringing bikkurim until a more distinguished kohen arrives.  The Malbim explains along similar lines, and suggests a reason why a farmer would be hesitant to bring his bikkurim to a non-distinguished kohen.  The Torah prescribed that upon bringing the first fruits, the farmer must say to the kohen, “I have come to the Lord your God, for I have come to the land that the Lord has sworn to our forefathers to give us” (26:3).  The Malbim explains that one must issue this statement to clarify to the kohen that he brings these fruits purely as an expression of gratitude to the Almighty, and not for any other reason.  Accordingly, we might expect a farmer to hesitate before bringing his fruits and making this statement to an ignorant or otherwise mediocre kohen.  A person might consider it beneath him to have to affirm his sincerity to a kohen of lowly stature.  For this reason, the Torah, as understood by the Sifrei, stresses that one should bring his bikkurim to whichever kohen serves in the Temple, irrespective of his caliber.

            We should note, however, that this explanation of the Sifrei does not appear to accommodate the Sifrei’s formulation, or, for that matter, the formulation in the verse itself.  After all, the Torah mentions bringing the bikkurim to the kohen “in those days,” and the Sifrei specifically emphasizes the generational issue, admonishing against excessive nostalgia for forgone days.  Clearly, the Sifrei warns against comparing not the various kohanim of one’s time, but rather different generations of kohanim.  It thus seems difficult to explain the Sifrei as demanding that one not delay his bikkurim until a more noteworthy kohen has his shift in the Beit Ha-mikdash.

            It should be also noted that the issue raised by the Keli Yakar and Malbim may perhaps relate to a debate recorded in the Mishna (Bikkurim 3:12).  Rabbi Yehuda requires bringing bikkurim specifically to a kohen chaver – a kohen who ensures to eat his teruma and bikkurim in a state of ritual purity.  The majority view disagrees.  According to Rabbi Yehuda, then, one must, indeed, bring his bikkurim to a knowledgeable kohen who complies with the rigorous standards demanded for partaking of sacred foods such as bikkurim.

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            Yesterday, we discussed a verse towards the beginning of Parashat Ki-Tavo (26:3) which instructs bringing one’s bikkurim (offering of first fruits) to the “kohen asher yihyeh ba-yamim ha-hem” – “kohen who will be around in those days.”  Today we will discuss the translation of this phrase which appears in Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel: “kehana di yehavei memanei le-kohen rav” – “the kohen who is appointed high priest.”  Seemingly, Targum Yonatan maintained that one must bring his bikkurim specifically to the kohen gadol, and not to a regular kohen – a requirement that appears nowhere in halakhic literature.

            We find various approaches taken to explain this remark of Targum Yonatan.  (The sources cited below are taken from Rav David Mandelbaum’s Pardes Yosef He-chadash, and from the journal Orayta, vol. 15, pp. 330-2.)  Some writers suggested rereading this comment such that it does not, in fact, indicate a requirement to bring bikkurim to the kohen gadol.  Rav Aharon Lewin (known as “the Reisha Rav”), in both his Avnei Chefetz (58:10) and Ha-derash Ve-ha-iyun, claimed that “kohen rav” refers to a distinguished kohen, and not to the kohen gadol.  Rav Lewin claimed that the formal declarations required as part of the bikkurim process necessitated a certain aura that could be provided only by a kohen of particular prominence and piety. 

            However, as correctly noted by the editor of Orayta, this explanation does not appear to accommodate Targum Yonatan’s formulation, “the kohen who is appointed high priest.”  Even if one would argue that “high priest” could refer to a distinguished kohen, rather than the official kohen gadol, he would have to justify the reference to an “appointment” in this context.  Seemingly, the only “appointment” relevant in the realm of priesthood is that of the kohen gadol.

            In light of this, some other writers suggested that there was in the Temple a kohen who served as supervisor over the other kohanim, and it is perhaps to him that Targum Yonatan requires bringing bikkurim, as he would then distribute it among all the kohanim serving that shift in the Temple.

Others suggested that Targum Yonatan does not require bringing the bikkurim to the kohen gadol, but rather hinges the obligation of bikkurim on there being a kohen gadol in service.  Indeed, Ibn Ezra writes explicitly in his commentary to this verse, “for this is an obligation whenever there is a kohen gadol.”  Likewise, Tosefot in Masekhet Ketubot (105b) cites a remark from the Seder Eliyahu Zuta that the mitzva of bikkurim cannot apply without a Temple, altar or kohen gadol.  In light of these sources, one might explain Targum Yonatan to mean that one brings bikkurim only when there is a kohen gadol, but not that one must bring his first fruits specifically to the high priest himself.

            Others, however, accepted the straightforward reading of Targum Yonatan, whereby bikkurim must be brought specifically to the kohen gadol.  Rav Moshe Leib Shachor, in his Avnei Shoham, suggests that Targum Yonatan perhaps extracted this requirement from the verse’s peculiar syntax, which described the kohen as “the kohen who will be around at that time.”  As we mentioned yesterday, this description parallels the Torah’s description of the nation’s judiciary – “the judge who will be around at that time” (Devarim 17:9).  Apparently, here, too, the Torah refers to a distinguished position of leadership, which, in the case of the priesthood, can be only the kohen gadol.  Furthermore, Rav Shachor adds, this verse requires the farmer offering bikkurim to declare to the kohen, “I have come to the Lord your God, for I have come to the land that the Lord has sworn to our forefathers to give us.”  Surprisingly, the farmer is to refer to the Almighty as “the Lord your God” – meaning, the kohen’s God.  Rav Shachor contends that this peculiarity may have prompted Targum Yonatan to conclude that one must bring the fruits to the kohen gadol.  The kohen gadol wore on his forehead the tzitz – a plate containing the inscription, “Kadosh le-Hashem” (“sacred to God”).  The kohen gadol’s unique stature of designation for the divine service perhaps justifies the reference to God as “the kohen’s God.”  On this basis, perhaps, Targum Yonatan arrived at this very startling conclusion.

            Of course, all these theories are pure speculation, and Targum Yonatan’s comments remain somewhat of a mystery.

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            Yesterday, we discussed the surprising remark in Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel’s translation of a verse in Parashat Ki-Tavo (26:3), seemingly indicating that bikkurim (the annual offering of first fruits) must be brought to the kohen gadol.  Whereas it is generally assumed that one brings his bikkurim to whichever kohanim currently serve in their shift in the Temple (see Rambam, Hilkhot Bikkurim 3:1), Targum Yonatan implies that they are brought specifically to the kohen gadol, and not to ordinary kohanim.  Yesterday, we cited different approaches taken to interpret Targum Yonatan’s comments, and a possible basis for this theory in the text.

            Today, we will suggest a possible explanation as to the rationale underlying such a position.  In Parashat Korach (Bamidbar 18:8-20), the Torah outlines all the matenot kehuna – the various gifts Benei Yisrael must give the kohanim on different occasions, including bikkurim (see 18:13).  This section concludes with God’s declaration to Aharon, “You shall not inherit a share in their land, nor shall you have a portion among them; I am your share and inheritance among the Israelites.”  This concluding verse likely reflects the fundamental basis of the entire institution of matenot kehuna.  Benei Yisrael must give these gifts to the kohanim because the kohanim receive no share of their own in the land.  The only means of sustaining the kohanim is through this system, whereby the farmers support the kohanim who refrain from gainful employment to devote their time and energies to the nation’s spiritual needs.  Indeed, in the very next verse, the Torah turns its attention to the parallel laws concerning the Levi’im, and writes explicitly that the annual tithes given to the Levites are “in exchange for their service that they perform, the service of the Tent of Meeting” (Bamidbar 18:21).  It stands to reason that the kohanim receive their gifts for the same purpose.

            It seems, however, that bikkurim differ from other matenot kehuna, in that they serves an additional function, as well.  Significantly, this is the only priestly gift that must be brought to the Temple and given to the kohen there.  (Of course, the kohanim’s share in sacrificial meat must also be brought to the Temple; however, quite obviously, this is due to the separate requirement that sacrifices be offered only in the Beit Ha-mikdash.)  The other matenot kehuna may be distributed to the kohanim anywhere.  As Seforno (26:3) explains, a farmer’s offering of bikkurim resembles the commission given by a sharecropper to his landowner, or a tribute brought by a farmer who received land as a gift.  Bikkurim is, essentially, given not to the kohen, but to the Almighty, as acknowledgment of His ultimate authority and ownership over the land.  By offering his first fruits to God, rather than partaking of them himself or selling them in the market, the farmer declares that he is but the Almighty’s sharecropper, tilling the land that He owns.  In fact, Seforno comments (26:4) that for this reason the kohen places the bikkurim before the altar – to demonstrate that they are brought to God, and not to the kohen, who merely receives the fruits as a gift from the Almighty.

            Thus, although bikkurim serve the standard function of all matenot kehuna – to support the priestly tribe – they also express the individual’s humble submission to God and acceptance of His authority over the land.

            If so, then we might perhaps explain why, according to Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel, the first fruits are brought specifically to the kohen gadol.  Unlike the other kohanim, who come to serve in the Temple in temporary shifts, the kohen gadol is a permanent fixture in the Beit Ha-mikdash.  He is the Almighty’s “live-in attendant,” so-to-speak, as the words engraved upon his tzitz (frontlet) – “Sacred to the Lord” – suggest.  His entire life is devoted exclusively to the divine service in the Temple, and he is therefore qualified to represent God by receiving the bikkurim.  According to Yonatan Ben Uziel, one brings bikkurim specifically to the kohen gadol because he is essentially bringing them to God, of whom the kohen gadol is the most worthy and natural representative.

            (We should note that although we based our theory on comments made by Seforno, he explicitly did not follow this approach.  In his remarks to 26:4, he notes that all matenot kehuna, and not merely bikkurim, are essentially gifts offered to the Almighty, who then transfers them to the kohanim.  According to our understanding of Targum Yonatan, bikkurim differs from the other priestly gifts in this regard.)

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            In Parashat Ki-Tavo Moshe presents his detailed description of the berakhot and kelalot – the blessings and curses he promises will befall Benei Yisrael depending on their obedience to the Torah’s mitzvot.  In the middle of his presentation of the berakhot (blessings), Moshe declares, “The Lord will establish you as a sacred nation, as he swore to you, for you will observe the commandments of the Lord your God and follow His ways” (28:9).

            The Netziv, in his Ha’amek Davar, raises a simple question regarding this verse.  Moshe had already established the condition for Benei Yisrael’s receiving these blessings, in the introductory remarks to this section: “It shall be, if you heed the voice of the Lord your God, observing and performing all His commandments that I enjoin upon you today…” (28:1).  Once this condition has already been expressly stipulated, why must Moshe then explain that the nation will earn these blessings “for you will observe the commandments of the Lord your God and follow his ways”?  Hadn’t he already hinged the success and prosperity described in this section on Benei Yisrael’s faithful obedience to God and his Torah?

            The Netziv answers this question by suggesting a novel reading of the opening word in this verse – ki (“because,” or “for”).  According to the Netziv, Moshe here promises that God will make Israel His “sacred nation” even when they “observe the commandments of the Lord your God and follow His ways.”  The Netziv explains this sentence based on Chazal’s understanding of the final two words of this verse – “ve-halakhta bi-drakhav” (“walk in His ways”).  The Rambam (Sefer Ha-mitzvot, asei 8; Hilkhot Dei’ot 1:6) cites this phrase as the Biblical source for the obligation to follow God’s example in one’s daily conduct.  As the Rambam cites from earlier sources (e.g. Sota 14; Sifrei to Devarim 11:22), Chazal understood “walking in God’s ways” to mean that we, like the Almighty, must act kindly and compassionately.  Accordingly, as the Netziv explains, the verse here speaks of involving oneself in the needs of others, community service, and other forms of work in the realm of social activity.

            Often, the Netziv writes, involvement in communal affairs and offering personal assistance to those in need, to which the verse’s second clause refers, might appear to conflict with the ideal mentioned in the verse’s opening clause: “The Lord will establish you as a sacred nation.”  “Holiness” is generally perceived as attainable only through a degree of withdrawal from social involvement, through isolation, which enables one to focus on his spiritual development without the interference of the more mundane issues that arise in the context of community service.  Moshe therefore guarantees Benei Yisrael the ability to reach the exalted level of am kadosh – a “sacred nation” – even when they “follow God’s ways,” when they take time from their lofty spiritual pursuits to involve themselves in communal needs.  Even while tending to the needs of the poor, by rejoicing with brides and grooms, by caring for the ill, comforting the bereaved and looking after the dead, Benei Yisrael can achieve the spiritual greatness we often and erroneously associate with lives and seclusion and isolation.

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            The opening section of Parashat Ki-Tavo deals with the mitzva of bikkurim – the obligation requiring a farmer to bring his first fruits to the kohen in the Beit Ha-mikdash.  The Malbim, in his commentary to the parasha’s opening verse, cites an old text of the Sifrei that reads, “Ein ‘ve-haya’ ela miyad.”  Meaning, the first word of the parasha, ve-haya – “It shall be when you enter the land” – alludes to the immediate application of the laws presented.  At first glance, the Sifrei seems to establish that the mitzva of bikkurim takes effect immediately upon Benei Yisrael’s entry into Eretz Yisrael, even before they complete the process of kibbush ve-chiluk – the land’s conquest and distribution.

            However, as the Malbim and many others note, such a notion is untenable.  After all, this verse, which introduces the bikkurim obligation, says explicitly, “when you enter the land… and you occupy it and settle it.”  And it is clear from halakhic literature that bikkurim applies only after the process of kibbush ve-chiluk.  For this reason, perhaps among others, this passage is omitted from many editions of the Sifrei.

            The Malbim, however, offers two explanations to uphold this ancient text.  Firstly, he suggests that the Sifrei refers to the application of the bikkurim requirement even for fruits that were planted before Benei Yisrael’s arrival in Canaan.  Unlike the laws of orla (the prohibition against using a tree’s fruits produced during its first three years), which took effect only with regard to trees planted by Benei Yisrael, the mitzva of bikkurim applied even to fruits that had been originally planted by the Canaanites before the Israelite conquest.

            Secondly, the Malbim suggests, the Sifrei perhaps sought to distinguish the mitzva of bikkurim from the obligation discussed in the Torah just prior to this section – mechiyat Amalek (the eradication of the Amalekite nation).  In introducing that obligation, the Torah clearly indicates that it takes effect only once Benei Yisrael achieve a degree of security and stability in the land: “It shall be, when the Lord your God grants you respite from all your enemies around you, in the land that the Lord your God is giving you… you shall eradicate the memory of Amalek” (25:19).  That verse, too, begins with the word ve-haya, which one may have interpreted as reflecting an association between the obligation of mechiyat Amalek and that of bikkurim.  On this basis, one might have concluded that bikkurim, like the destruction of Amalek, does not take effect after the process of kibbush ve-chiluk, until after Benei Yisrael secure their borders and stabilize their empire.  The Sifrei therefore noted that ve-haya in the context of bikkurim has the precise opposite connotation, and implies that this obligation takes effect immediately following the process of conquest and settlement, even before the nation achieves complete peace and security.

            This second explanation offered by the Malbim may present a profound lesson relevant to modern times.  The Sifrei stresses that the obligation to bring bikkurim, which is meant (at least in part) as an expression of gratitude over the gift of Eretz Yisrael (see Rashi to 26:3, s.v. ve-amarta eilav), applies even when conditions in the land are far from perfect, even when the nation faces life-threatening enemies and general instability.  The privilege we have to live in, build and cultivate Eretz Yisrael must – at least to some extent – overshadow the hardships and painful conditions that have unfortunately accompanied this historical process.  The Torah obligates the farmer to declare each year during his harvest, “Higadeti hayom le-Hashem Elokekha ki vati el ha-aretz asher nishba Hashem la-avoteinu latet lanu” (26:3).  According to Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel, this means, “I give thanks and praise to the Lord your God, for I have come into the land that the Lord has sworn to our forefathers to give to us.”  And, according to the Malbim’s understanding of the Sifrei, the farmer must make this declaration even before the nation has achieved the desired level of peace and security.  Coming into the land that God promised us is sufficient reason to give praise and express profound gratitude, even if conditions in this land remain far from the ideal for which we must continue to pray, and towards which we must continue to strive.