Our parsha opens with mitzvat bikkurim. Each year, the farmer brings his first fruits to the Beit Hamikdash in thanks to Hashem. The farmer then recites the viduy bikkurim, a series of pesukim (26:6-10) recounting Am Yisrael’s history—their arrival in Egypt and eventual enslavement, followed by their miraculous redemption and entry into Eretz Yisrael. He ends his viduy by declaring these fruits to be a thank you for all that Hashem has given him.
The commentaries wonder why the farmer bringing bikkurim needs to recite such a lengthy text. If the goal of mitzvat bikkurim is to thank Hashem for the new crop, then a few sentences of thanks should suffice. Why the need to review Am Yisrael’s history?
This mystery is compounded when considering the other major time that these pesukim are recited. On Pesach night, during maggid, we engage in group Torah study, learning pesukim describing the Exodus. However, instead of quoting pesukim directly from the Exodus story, the Torah quotes these pesukim from vidui bikkurim, pesukim where the farmer recounts the story of the Exodus. Why did the Rabbis choose these pesukim, as opposed to pesukim from the Exodus story itself?
A poignant answer to these questions is suggested by my father, Rabbi Shmuel Goldin, in his book “Unlocking the Torah Text: Devarim” (pgs. 266-67). He points out a subtle, yet powerful shift that occurs during the pesukim of vidui bikkurim. The farmer first recounts the history of Yaacov and family going to Egypt: “Vayehi sham l’goy gadol atzum varav, and there he became a nation- great, strong, and numerous.” Until this point, the farmer speaks in third person. And yet beginning with the next pasuk, he shifts: “Vayarei’u osanu hamitzrim vaye’anunu, the Egyptians mistreated us and afflicted us.” From here on in, the farmer talks in first person, including himself in the experience of the Exodus and arrival into Eretz Yisrael. Through this important shift, suggests my father, “the farmer is transformed from an observer to a personal participant. He no longer objectively reports on events that happened to others; he now describes events as if they happened to him. Past, present, and future merge…”
We can now understand why these pesukim are chosen as the centerpiece for maggid on the Seder night. One of the goals of the Seder experience is for “each person to see himself as if he left Egypt.” No section of Torah text is better equipped to assist in achieving that goal than that of vidui bikkurim. “As we channel the words of that long-ago farmer, bringing his first fruits into the Temple, we join him on his temporal journey. Together we become one with our forefathers in the land of Egypt, experiencing the Exodus as if it happened to us.”
This idea can also answer our initial question—why the farmer references the story of Am Yisrael’s slavery and Exodus at all. Each year, as the farmer brings his first fruits to the Beit Hamikdash to thank Hashem, the Torah commands him to go a step further. It requires him to not only thank Hashem, but to gain an appreciation for the greater story of our nation that brought him to today. His ability to live and thrive in Eretz Yisrael didn’t occur in a vacuum; The generations before him, and all that they endured and accomplished, enabled him to achieve his success. He’s therefore commanded to not only recount those events, but to view his own life as directly benefiting from them, as if he experienced them himself. Only once he sees himself as an actual participant in his nation’s story does he gain the perspective needed to properly thank Hashem.
In a 2013 The New York Times article entitled “The Stories that Bind Us,” author Bruce Feiler discussed a study by psychologists Marshal Duke and Robyn Fivush regarding the role of myth in American families. The results of their study, reported Feiler, found that “the ones who know more about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” and that “the ‘Do You Know?’ scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness.”
They explained this phenomenon by suggesting that “the more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned.” Feiler added that according to Dr. Duke, “Children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong ‘intergenerational self.’ They know they belong to something bigger than themselves.”
This knowledge and understanding don’t come automatically. We parents must work to ensure that our children grow up with a clear sense of their past, both on a familial and national level. They must be taught that the stories of the past are not simply fairy tales, rather they play a major role in actively shaping who they are today. Our children must learn to insert themselves into their pasts and view themselves as the next link in the chain of their family and national story. In this way, they will gain a better appreciation for what they have and will also gain greater resiliency, as they realize, to quote Fivush and Duke, that “they belong to something bigger than themselves.”
Each year, as the farmer brings his first fruits to the Beit Hamikdash as thanks, he relives his nation’s story and inserts himself into that history—gaining a greater appreciation for where he’s come from and underscoring the legacy that he is meant to continue. We, too, must ensure that we instill this awareness within our own family, making sure that our children are deeply aware of their familial and national histories and legacies. Doing so will make them more resilient, successful and appreciative children.
Wishing everyone a Shabbat Shalom!
Rav Yossi Goldin is the menahel tichon at Yeshivas Pe’er HaTorah, Rebbe at Midreshet Tehilla, and Placement Advisor/Internship Coordinator for the YU/RIETS Kollel. He lives with his family in Shaalvim and can be reached at [email protected]
