Being grateful is also a gift

Sermon Ki Tavo

The first aliya describes the mitzvah of Bikurim. First fruits had to be brought to the Bet Hamikdash in a thanksgiving ceremony. After declaring Hashem’s blessings the fruits were permitted to be eaten. As carnivals go, the farmers march to Jerusalem with their first fruits was quite something. This wasn’t a private pilgrimage. The simple farmer was treated like royalty. He was  escorted with an entourage and was greeted by senior officers from the Bet Hamikdash.

The Mishnah paints the vivid picture:

Early in the morning the officer would say: “Let us arise and go up to Zion, into the house of the Lord our God.” An ox would go in front of them, his horns bedecked with gold and with an olive-crown on its head. The flute would play before them until they would draw close to Jerusalem. When they drew close to Jerusalem they would send messengers in advance, and they would adorn their bikkurim. The governors and chiefs and treasurers [of the Temple] would go out to greet them, and according to the rank of the entrants they would go forth. All the skilled artisans of Jerusalem would stand up before them and greet them saying, “Our brothers, men of such and such a place, we welcome you in peace.” The flute would play before them, until they reached the Temple Mount.

When he got to the Temple Court, the Levites would sing the song: “I will extol You, O Lord, for You have raised me up, and You have not let my enemies rejoice over me.” The birds [tied to] the basket were [offered] as whole burnt-offerings, and those which they held in their hands they gave to the priests.

While the basket was still on his shoulder he recites from: "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” (Devarim 26:3) until he completes the passage. When he reaches, “My father was a fugitive Aramean”, he takes the basket off his shoulder and holds it by its edges, and the priest places his hand beneath it and waves it. He then recites from “My father was a fugitive Aramean” until he completes the entire passage. He then deposits the basket by the side of the altar, bows and departs.

As children, our parents trained us to say thank you. It doesn’t come naturally. Needing help or receiving help can be uncomfortable. The loss of personal autonomy, of independence can cut deep. If the help is  undeserved it becomes even more awkward.  The Rabbis call this uneasy feeling  “nahama d’kisufa” – the bread of shame. Receiving freebees can be fun for a short period, but ultimately we enjoy feeling that we achieve our own success. 

Since gifts represent our desire to build or cement a relationship, they also require some form of reciprocation. Contemporary sociologist Dimitri Mortelmans argues that gift giving creates a “debt-balance”, so to prevent ill feelings gifts must be repaid creating a cycle of gift giving.

Our farmer would certainly view their own efforts as having played a significant role in their harvest. Cultivating the land and growing food isn’t easy. The farmer would certainly have bragging rights if he had a successful season.

Perhaps this is why the antidote to getting lost in our own world of success was a public declaration of thanks. Despite the gargantuan effort of the farmer, without the ideal weather conditions nothing grows. The farmer has certainly been blessed but expressing it poses a challenge. Perhaps we should view this mitzvah as a gift from Hashem.  The ability to give thanks is itself a gift from Hashem.

George Herbert, in The Temple  in the poem Gratefulness writes“Thou that hast giv’n so much to me, give one thing more, a grateful heart.”

Herbert’s acknowledges that God has already bestowed abundant blessings and yet he asks for one further gift: the capacity to respond with gratitude. The paradox is striking: even the ability to give thanks must itself be granted by God. Gratitude here is not just a duty but a divine gift that transforms the soul.

The bringing of bikkurim cultivated a spirit of  joy and thankfulness.

Bringing gifts to God or the gods in the ancient world was common. Many of the pagan gods needed feeding. Not so the God of Israel.  The first children recorded in the Torah brought gifts to Hashem.  They were not feeding the Deity neither were they appeasing him or seeking his favour against an enemy. Giving to another creates a relationship. Researchers believe that cavemen gave presents like unusual shaped rocks or animal teeth to strengthen social connection and show their appreciation to others. As social structures developed, the gifts became more elaborate and decorative.

The declaration made by the farmer included a potted history going back to Torah times and the nomadic life our ancestors endured compared to the settled  tranquil life of our farmer living on his own land in the homeland. We might wonder why the challenging moments in our backstory were mentioned. In Paradise Lost, Milton teaches that gratitude begins with recognising that the blessings we enjoy are gifts, not self-made. Blessings don’t exist in a vacuum. There is always a trajectory that itself might have started in struggle rather than blessing.

“These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty; thine this universal frame, thus wondrous fair…”

Here, Adam and Eve are singing their dawn song of praise to God. They look at the beauty of the newly created world  the "universal frame"  and instinctively respond with thanksgiving.

They acknowledge that the beauty of creation doesn’t come from themselves but from God, whom they call the "Parent of good." Milton presents gratitude as the natural and joyful response of the heart when it sees goodness. Gratitude here is not just duty, but delight. Just as the first fruits of a harvest were offered to God as a token of thanksgiving, Adam and Eve offer their voices and hearts at the start of the day. Their hymn symbolises giving back to God the best of what they have  their love, praise, and wonder. Gratitude keeps Adam and Eve in harmony with God and with the natural order. By giving thanks, they align themselves with the truth that creation is a gift and that joy is fullest when it flows back to the giver.

As we approach the end of the year we only have a short time left to begin the process of introspection, reflection and change. Children imagine themselves capable of doing anything. We can all be children in this respect. Judaism demands that we always remain youthful in attitude. Stagnation, declaring this is who I am and this is what I do and I will not change, is not an authentic Jewish attitude. One could suggest that it stems from fear, social unease ( what will the neighbours say) a lack of personal integrity or not wanting more responsibility. But listen to three verses that we say 4 times every Shabbat.

The righteous man flourishes like a palm tree, which soars to great heights and bears fruit even in the arid desert. Like a lofty cedar in Lebanon he grows tall.	צַ֭דִּיק כַּתָּמָ֣ר יִפְרָ֑ח כְּאֶ֖רֶז בַּלְּבָנ֣וֹן יִשְׂגֶּֽה׃
Planted in the House of the Lord and blessed by Him, they blossom in the courts of our God.	שְׁ֭תוּלִים בְּבֵ֣ית ה בְּחַצְר֖וֹת אֱלֹקינוּ יַפְרִֽיחוּ׃
Even if they experience occasional hardship and adversity, they will continue to yield fruit, even in old age. While others wither and fade, they will remain full and fresh.	ע֭וֹד יְנוּב֣וּן בְּשֵׂיבָ֑ה דְּשֵׁנִ֖ים וְֽרַעֲנַנִּ֣ים יִהְיֽוּ׃

Yielding fruit in old age, sounds ridiculous, but that’s the optimistic mindset of Jewish thought. Freshness, hitchadshut is always possible. As we contemplate change we ought to look back at a life lived, through all the challenges and struggles we have endured, whilst recognising the blessings we currently have and giving thanks for them. So over the next two weeks make a list of the blessings, bring the list to Shul on Rosh Hashanah and during the tefila tell God what you are grateful for. Recognise His love and guidance that carried you through the year, and be’ezrat Hashem you and we will all see more blessings in the year ahead.