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    WE ARE ALL FARMERS

    This week’s parsha, Ki Savo, tells of the
    mitzva of bikurim, the giving of the first
    fruits to the Kohein.
    “Ki savo el ha’aretz…, When you enter the
    land that HaShem, your G-d, gives you for an
    inheritance… You shall take the first of all
    the fruit… and you shall put it in a basket,
    and go to the place that HaShem, your G-d,
    will choose to have His name dwell there.”
    (Devarim 26:1-2)
    Let’s travel back in time to the days the Beis
    HaMikdash stood in Yerushalayim. It’s
    harvest time, and the farmers are in the field.
    They’re busy collecting bikurim, the first
    fruits of the Shivas Haminim, the Seven
    Species that Eretz Yisroel is known for –
    wheat, barley, grapes, figs, pomegranates,
    olives and dates.
    The Mishna describes the beauty and
    splendor of giving bikurim. The farmers of
    each community would join together and
    make the trek to Yerushalayim. What a sight
    it must have been! An ox would walk before
    them, its horns adorned with gold, and a
    wreath of olive leaves resting upon its head.

    Melodious tunes from a chalil, a flute would
    accompany them until they approached
    Yerushalayim.
    Upon nearing the city, they would send word
    ahead about their imminent arrival. The
    farmers would then decorate their bikurim
    baskets with flowers. Important officials
    would come out to greet them. The tradesmen
    of Yerushalayim would stand before them,
    and in a display of unity call out “Acheinu,
    our brothers, men of such and such a place,
    we welcome you in peace.”
    Our Torah is timeless, its messages for all
    generations. How does the mitzva of bikurim
    speak to us today? Rabbi Moshe Alshich,
    known as The Alshich HaKodosh (1508-
    1593), teaches that the mitzva of bikurim is a
    lesson in hakoras hatov, recognizing the
    good, having gratitude and showing
    appreciation. The farmer works the field,
    plants, and fertilizes. But then looks up to
    the heavens, and says, HaShem, I need Your
    help. The right amount of rainfall, enough to
    nourish the earth but not too much that would
    flood the field. Sunshine to help the crops
    grow, but not a scorcher that would parch the
    land. The crops should be protected from
    storms and strong winds. And then it is

    harvesting time. Time to say thank you
    HaShem. Time to acknowledge that no
    matter man’s effort, we need HaShem’s
    brachos.
    It’s not just the farmer who should live with a
    connection to HaShem, but all of us. The
    farmer does everything he can do, but
    recognizes that he cannot make the seed
    grow. That is the essence of bikurim.
    A doctor can study, prepare, and operate—
    but cannot guarantee the outcome.
    A businessperson can work tirelessly—but
    cannot control the market.
    A parent can nurture a child—but cannot
    determine every outcome.
    A teacher can teach—but cannot control
    what a student ultimately absorbs.
    We are all farmers.
    No matter where life takes us, no matter what
    profession or pursuit we choose, we must
    acknowledge HaShem being with us, guiding
    us along the way.
    A friend shared with me that her mother
    underwent serious surgery that Boruch
    HaShem had a successful outcome. When
    she thanked the doctor, he told her that it
    wasn’t his skills, but “G-d and His angels
    were resting on my shoulders”. A humble
    thought that is the spirit and meaning of
    bikurim. A spirit that each of us can and
    should bring into our lives.
    When the farmer would offer his bikurim,
    he would do so with a tefilla – Mikra
    Bikurim, Declaration of the First Fruit.
    “And you shall go to the Kohein…
    v’amarta, and you shall say…” (Devarim
    26:3) The Torah emphasizes that the
    farmer’s expression of appreciation must
    be verbalized. A lesson for us to take to
    heart. The Sifri commentary on Devarim
    learns from here the importance of voicing
    words of thanks. It’s not enough to think it,
    one must say it. Even if we have strong
    feelings of gratitude in our mind, and feel
    appreciation within our heart, it is not
    sufficient. Gratitude isn’t merely an
    emotion; it is an act. V’amarta, one must
    say the words. Gratitude is not fully
    assimilated until it is verbalized. It is not
    only meaningful to the one who received
    the thanks but leaves a positive mark upon
    the one who offers the thanks.
    And what does the farmer offering bikurim
    say? He recounts the history of our people,
    going back to Yaakov Avinu. He speaks of
    Yaakov’s trials and travails. The difficult
    days in Lavan’s house. Of Yaakov’s going
    down to Egypt, and the eventual
    enslavement of Bnei Yisroel. The farmer
    continues and tells of HaShem’s answering
    their cries of pain with a miraculous
    exodus.

    Why the history lesson – why not a simple
    “Thank You HaShem”? Yaakov’s story, and
    subsequently our nation’s story, is our story.
    From Yaakov to the nation in Egypt, to the
    farmer planting a seed, the message is all the
    same. All face challenges and hardships. Yet,
    all saw good. Yaakov became the father of
    Bnei Yisroel. The Jews enslaved in Egypt
    were freed and became a great nation. And
    the farmer saw his seeds rise to a flourishing
    crop. A reminder to the farmer – a reminder
    to us – not to despair. All will be good with
    HaShem’s help.
    V’amarta, to tell over. As the daughter and
    granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, the
    message of bikurim is especially powerful.
    They endured much pain and darkness. But
    then, like the farmer, they planted new seeds.
    And like the farmer who has emuna that his
    seeds will take root, my parents and
    grandparents davened to see a beautiful crop,
    a new beginning, trusting that HaShem will
    be with them. And, like the farmer offering
    his prayer of thanks, I remember my parents
    and grandparents thanking HaShem for
    bringing them to a time in life where they
    saw true nachas, the bracha of a growing
    family, another link in the chain of Am
    Yisroel.

    We are in Chodesh Elul. There is a well-
    known saying from Rav Shneur Zalman of

    Ladi, HaMelech ba’sadeh, the King is in the
    field. HaShem, the King, so to say, leaves His
    palace and comes to the field to be with His
    people. To listen to our tefillos and bakashos,
    our prayers and requests. From this week’s
    parsha, we learn lessons from the field. We
    learn from the farmer who doesn’t bring
    bikurim when his entire crop is fully grown.
    He brings the first fruits. So too, Elul is not
    only a time to ask Hashem for what we need.
    It is a time to stop and recognize the blessings
    we already have. Lessons of humility and
    gratitude. Lessons to bring us closer to our
    King. Like the farmer bringing bikurim, it is
    a time to realize that all the good in our life
    comes from HaShem.