Parashat And Sidra Ki Savo

Parashat Ki Savo is the 50th weekly Torah portion in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading.

The Jews expressed their gratitude to G-d by offering the first fruits. Sidra Ki Savo initially states how to behave in the sanctuary:
“Then you shall speak before the Hashem your G-d as follows: The Aramean destroyed my father and he went down to Egypt, he dwelt there with a handful of people… The Hashem brought us out of Egypt with a firm hand and an outstretched arm… and he brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.
Now therefore, behold, I have brought the firstfruits of the fruits of the role that you have given me, Hashem” (Deuteronomy 26.5-10).
The conjunction “the Aramean destroyed my father” is interpreted (Rashi, Targum Jonatan) in relation to Laban’s intention to destroy Jacob, and therefore the entire Jewish nation. In this light, the offering of the firstfruits is connected with the knowledge of G-d’s redemption: G-d saved the Jewish people from destruction – once at the hands of Laban, the second time at the hands of Laban Egyptians. The sacrifice of the first fruits was also related to the knowledge of G-d’s grace, because G-d led his people into the land “abounding in milk and honey”.
However, the question arises: If the prayer at the firstfruits offering was to express G-d’s favor, why were they mentioned in it only two examples of miracles? After all, many others could be cited: the parting of the Red Sea, the fight with Amalek, manna and water in the desert, the wars against Sichon and Og, and others. Perhaps it could be answered that only Laban and the Egyptians threatened Israel with complete annihilation, and that therefore deliverance from these two enemies was more substantial and important than deliverance
in all other miracles. However, this reasoning makes one important omission: it forgets about liberation Jacob and his children at the hands of his brother Esau.
If Esau had acted as Jacob feared (“for I am afraid of him lest he kill me, with my mother and children” – Genesis 32,12), there would be nothing left of the Jewish nation.
It is also strange that Rashi does not address this question. The aforementioned omission makes it difficult the literal understanding of the text, and the task of Rashi’s commentaries was to enlighten all problems from all points of view. We can therefore conclude from Rashi’s silence in this case that our case is actually none the problem is not that with my own reason, or with the help of Rashi’s previous notes, we can understand why Jacob’s deliverance from the hands of Esau does not apply to prayer at
firstfruits offering. A possible explanation would be that Esau was not a real danger.
When he met Jacob after long years of separation, he did him no harm. The threat was present only in Jacob’s mind – in his uneasiness and foreboding. True, Laban also did nothing to Jacob. However, G-d did not judge his intention to do so intention, but as a truly accomplished act. When Rashi was explaining why the Torah says about Laban
“The Aramean destroyed my father” instead of “The Aramean sought to destroy my father” states:
“Because he intended to do it, G-d judged that he actually did it. For as far as the nations are concerned, the Lord, blessed be He, judges intentions as actions.”
This also explains why the verse emphasizes that Laban was an Aramean. In contrast, Esau was a Jew, albeit an apostate (see Kedushin, 18-a), and his intention to harm
To Jacob, therefore, he was considered a potential rather than a real danger. That is why Jacob’s deliverance does not deserve special mention in the prayer of thanksgiving.
A certain dilemma still remains. It is correct that we notice only the deliverance from the situation, which brought real danger, but then we should only mention in prayer of
deliverance from the hands of the Egyptians, under whose rule the Jewish people were afflicted and oppressed. If we read the text carefully, we see that Laban did Jacob no harm.
And if G-d judged his intention as well as the completed deed, this only applies to Laban’s punishment, and not for Jacob’s situation.
It follows that we should mention all G-d’s goodness, even when he receives a form of deliverance from possible danger, and the episode with Esau should also be included in the prayer. How to close the matter?
There is only one possible conclusion: two miracles in favor of Israel affecting Laban and The Egyptians – they and no one else – have a special relationship with the precept of the sacrifice of the first fruits. The Jews began to offer the first fruits only after their entry into the Promised Land – after when they conquered it, they divided it and settled in it (see Rashi’s commentary on Deuteronomy 26,1). From this we see that in fulfilling the firstfruits command, Israel was not merely expressing his gratitude for G-d’s gift of the Promised Land, but above all for the fact that God allowed the Jews to live in the Promised Land they settled down to make it their permanent abode, a real home.
Only when the Jews in the Promised Land could rejoice in the joy of the spirit were they willing to offer a sacrifice
first fruits. The fruits expressed the gratitude of the Jews for the “land flowing with milk and honey”, for the happiness of being able to still inhabiting, “eating her fruits and enjoying her bounty”. The above examples of Laban and Egypt were chosen precisely to emphasize this reality. In the places they mention, our ancestors lived permanently, in apparent safety. Here, however, enemies rose up against them – and only thanks to G-d’s help were they defeated. Thus the examples clearly emphasize the ever-lasting gift of the land (“and he brought us to this place”), z in which there can only be enough for everyone. In the case of Laban and Egypt, our ancestors received a miracle in the place where they lived permanently. Jacob dwelt in Mesopotamia twenty years, the Jews in Egypt two hundred years. And the words of the prayer “The Aramean destroyed my father and he went down to Egypt” from the beginning they give to reveal how the threat of their destruction rises from the place in which the Jews have already settled. Esau opposed Jacob when the forefather of the Jews was already on his way out of slavery, and also to other miracles that later accompanied Israel occurred during the wanderings in the desert after the exodus from Egypt. So these miracles have no relation to the exceptional feeling of gratitude that the Jews expressed in their own way settling in the Promised Land, their land, the land overflowing with plenty.
What is the Hasidic interpretation of the sacrifice of the first fruits? In Or hatora (Ki tavo, page 1040 ff.) it is explained that the fruit of the tree bears some resemblance to the soul: the soul is clothed with the body – and the sacrifice of the first fruits then we express how the body-enveloped soul reconnects with its source in
to G-d.
It is said: “As the first fruits of the fig tree, the earliest ones, I saw your fathers” (Hosea, 9,10).
It is the same with the “father” of the soul – its heavenly source: he resembles the first fruits. The reconnection of the soul with its source has two parts: the ascent of that which binds to the earth (sacrifice fruits), and the descent of what belongs to heaven (the prayer that accompanies the sacrifice).
The purpose of prayer is to bring holiness into this world. Jacob’s journey to Laban was
the descent of the vision at Beersheba to the temptation in Charan – see Likutech sichot, vol. 1, commentary on Eggs) just as it was the journey of the Jews from Egypt.
And these two descents hastened the two great works of grace and deliverance by which he was Jewish a nation saved from destruction. The stated meaning remains valid for the life of every Jew. It is not enough for a Jew to be satisfied with his own spiritual elevation, to raise his soul to G-d’s
proximity. He must also strive to bring spirituality into this world. It should be evident from his every speech – whether at work or in society. Not only should he not separate himself from faith in G-d by them, but he should, on the contrary, make them an integral part of his religion.
Such are the firstfruits of which the Torah speaks; and by their sacrifice holiness is effected the end for which the world was created: by human effort to make it the seat of G-d.

Chassidic Parashat

A Basket of Plenty
“And when you will come into the land that Hashem gave to you as an inheritence, and you will settle upon it. You shall take from the the first fruits of the land that Hashem has given you, and put them in a basket and bring them to the place which Hashem has chosen for His presence to dwell there.” (Deut. 26:1,2)
What is the reason for the this mitzvoh of Bikkurim, first fruits. Many of the major
commentaries on the Torah expand on an idea that is brought by the Rambam in
his Sefer HaMitzvos, and later by the Sefer HaChinuch (which we mentioned also
in last week’s Parsha).
Says the Rambam, that it comes to instruct us to dedicate our desires to the Creator of the World who brought into being all of the things that we desire. When one devotes his time and energy to tending his fields and orchards and vines and the first fruits appear, his natural tendency is to desire those fruits. He puts his eye on them, intending to pick them as soon as they are ripe, and with them, to prepare a feast for his family and friends. The Torah says, no! These fruits belong to he one who really brought them into being. Your desire to enjoy them should be preceeded by the desire to express gratitude for the good portion that you have in the land. Only then you may partake of the lands’ bounty.
The Shatzer Rebbe zt”l of London in his book Ohr HaGanuz (The Hidden Light), writes a beautiful idea which put this into perspective. “You shall take from the first fruits of the land that Hashem has given you, and put them in a basket. . .”.
The word for basket here in the Torah is Teneh (TNEH). He says that Teneh is an
acrostic for the three words: Ta’amim, Nekudos, Osi’os. (Cantillation marks, vowel marks and letters) This refers to the Torah and all of it’s particular details of cantillation, vocalization and exegesis from which we learn so many fine points of Jewish law and philosophy. When one takes his first fruits and puts them in the basket; that is, when he puts them in the context of the intention of Torah, he is sure to use them in the service of the Creator first. Then his own enjoyment is Kosher and in the spirit of the Torah.
“And he shall give the basket to the Cohen (priest) that will be working there at
that time. . .” (Deut. 26:3)
The Cohen refers to the Rebbes and Tzaddikim of our generation. Hashem insures that each generation has its own spiritual leaders and that they are especially
suited to the times. When one makes a strong connection with the Tzaddik, by
giving him his basket; by entrusting him to provide guidance in Torah and Avodah (service), then our first fruits are sure to be acceptable.


The Blessing is the Curse
In Parshas Ki Savo we find the most incredible and atrocious curses that are destined to come upon the Jewish people. War, plunder, agricultural disaster, famine so severe that mothers eat their children. Commentators tell us that these curses are referring to the time of the Second Temple. A student of Jewish history knows that these and more have befallen the Jewish people since the end of the Temple; the beginning of our current exile.
“And all these curses will have come upon you, pursuing you and catching you to destroy you, because you didn’t obey Hashem and didn’t keep his laws and statutes which he commanded. It will be a sign and proof to you and to your children forever. Because when you had everything, you did not serve Hashem with happiness and with a joyous heart.” (Deut. 28:45-47)
The Ohr HaChayim HaKodesh writes, that the curses which are enumerated in the
Torah in this Parsha, are based on three major things, the neglect of Torah study, disregard in the performance of positive mitzvohs and the transgression of negative mitzvohs.
How can one achieve the simcha (happiness) needed to save himself from these curses? The Ohr HaChayim is giving us the answer. Our sages says that there is no simcha like the resolution of doubts. When one learns Torah in order to clarify how to behave and how to think etc., the Torah’s way clarifies all of his doubts. He no longer is in limbo, not knowing what to do or how to respond. This brings about an incredible simcha!
Learning Torah is simple, enjoyable and interesting. The Torah is so broad that it
has topics of interest for everybody, as the Gemarra says, “A person can only learn that which his heart desires. Today, with the incredible opportunities for Torah study via the internet, even if you are in a place with no Jews with whom to learn, the wisdom of Hashem is readily available. As we say in the Maariv prayer. “Ki hem Chayanu, . . .”, they (the words of the Torah) are our life and the length of our days, and we will study them morning and evening. When one sets fixed immutable times for study, even if only a few minutes every morning and evening, one fulfills his obligation and puts himself on the lifelong path of Torah learning.
This has to be the world’s easiest, and certainly the most infallible prescription
for true happiness (simcha).

A Blessing in Disguise
Although the curses are frightful, nevertheless they actually represent a message of hope, consolation and blessing for those who are dedicated to serving Hashem.
R’ Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Rebbe of Chabad, and known as the Ba’al HaTanya, was a renowned Ba’al Koreh, Torah reader. His chassidim followed his Torah reading gripped with emotion as he led them together through the creation of the world. By the end of the Book of Genesis, they felt as if they had personally known the forefathers and foremothers. When B’nai Yisroel went into slavery in Egypt, they too endured their torture and the servitude. When they came out of Egypt as a free nation, they experienced the exultation and the gratitude to Hashem. The journeys through the desert were their own journeys though life, and the imminent entrance into Eretz Yisrael was their own hope and expectation.
When the Rebbe passed away, a new reader, one of the elder chassidim took his
place. That year, the first after the Rebbes’ death, when they came to the Portion
of Ki Savo and its curses, the Rebbe’s young grandson, Menachem Mendel (who was to become the 3rd Rebbe of Chabad and known as the Tzemach Tzedek), began to cry bitter tears and could not be consoled. When his father finally succeeded in calming him down, he asked, “Why did you weep so much my son? Every year you hear this Parsha and you never before wept .”
“The reason I never wept before”, said the youngster, “was because Zeide (grandfather) used to read the Torah. When Zeide read the curses, they sounded to me like blessings!”
A Guten Shabbos

Czech Parashat

Today’s parashat among other things, says this: “Now therefore, behold, I have brought ‘bikurim’, the first of the fruits of the role you gave me, Lord. And thou shalt set up a basket before the LORD thy God, and bow down before the LORD your G-d. “ (26:10)
This verse teaches us gratitude and confession of faith at times of success. When we have a “harvest” and are thriving, we often forget about G-d and gratitude for Him. This gift, the sacrificial offering to the Temple, was one of the 24 gifts to the priests. They lived off those gifts. Unlike other generations, they didn’t get their piece of land to feed them – they were in charge of the service in the Temple. Therefore, they could only eat “bikurim” – priests and levites. This gift of primitives was not intended for second or quantity. It all depended on the generosity of the donor (Mishnayot Pea 1.1). The Talmud further breaks down the details of this practice of ‘bikurim’ victim. But why talk about them today when there is no Temple where priests serve? It belongs to the many commandments, that seem to be extinguished, because they are connected to the non-existent, destroyed Temple.
Nevertheless, this habit lives on somehow. In the Talmud, in the Ketubot treaty, there is a saying: “If someone brings a gift to a wise man, it is as if he offered the first fruits in the Temple.” “
From Hasidic sources we know the story about reb Mordechai of Nadvorno. He once felt a great desire to fulfill this “mitzvah bikurim”. But when the Temple is not there, he grabbed that Talmudic quote. Therefore, he bought a lamb and had it beat. He distributed meat to needy families, so that everyone could celebrate Sabbath cheerfully and in plenty. From part of the wool he had to create “cicit” (which are shaky either to the big prayer shawl – “talit gadol”, or to the small “talit katan” under the outer garment). Tzitsis carefully packed and sent a messenger with them to Reb Chaim of Zanzu. Upon his arrival, the messenger explained to the tzadik that the reb Mordechai was sending this gift as a fulfillment of the mitzvah of bringing the primitives to the Temple. Reb Chaim was beaming with joy. And as they say, he even kept the paper in which the gift was wrapped as a rarity. This is such a beautiful, ideal situation where the giver and the gifted are in tune. It doesn’t always happen that way, and so the next Chasidic story is more complicated and could be called – the art of giving.
Reb Tzadok HaKohen did not accept any donations from any of his chasid people. Not even a “pidjon” (to redeem the captives). He couldn’t decline a single payment well enough. And this was the money that the father of the child pays at the ceremony of redemption of the firstborn – “pidyon haben”, because according to the Torah a descendant of a priest is entitled to it. But he also used this money only to buy religious literature and for no other purpose.
His living expenses were covered by the income provided by Rebecca, his wife, by sewing the worn wardrobe. When his mistress died, his Hasidis wanted to support him generously, but he absolutely refused any help. However, when one of the chasids asked him to reopen his shop, he said yes. However, only that he will have nothing more than his daily needs. And those were really modest – one meal every evening consisting of tea and a bun, or a bit of porridge.
Nevertheless, he took one Hasid into his head that he wanted to donate Tzadik a bottle of pure olive oil and a whole basket of fish. Realizing that Cadik would not accept anything like this as a gift and so he tried to trick him. He said to him, “I bring the first fruits” and quoted the wise men’s teachings that, “if someone brings a gift to the wise men, it is as if he sacrificed the first fruits – bikurim – in the Temple. “Reb Tzadok was surprised and intimidated, as always, by just quoting the words of the Talmud and so he accepted the gift.
However, during the next Shabesh, he began his explanation to the Hasidis at his table by quoting the same sentence: “If someone brings a gift from the talmid chacham – the wise men,” etc. Then he continued: “But am I a wise man?” No one can say I didn’t study because I studied. But what’s the point of studying? In Proverb, wisdom is in the hand of a fool and it makes no sense. And the Wise men teach us that this verse from Proverbs refers to those who studied the Torah but then did not observe it… “
When the meeting with Tzadik was over and the Chasid were parting embarrassingly, one of his longtime pupils turned to him and said: “Reb, we are all shocked at your words!” “””And that should be a good enough reason for me to lie?” “ Reb Tzadok responded. “If I received a gift from this man, he thinks I’m a scholar of Torah, worthy to be called : talmid chacham.” And I don’t think that’s the case in this case so I had to tell y’all the truth. “
I was discussing this story with my friend. Where did the mistake go? The donor had a good intention after all, he didn’t want Tzadik to suffer from poverty. But he somehow got him beaten, against his will, with quotations from the Talmud. He didn’t expect his self-reflection to be so deep. Tzadik did not feel well that he was included among the wise men and that is why gifts were brought to him. You were aware of your mistakes. If he has already accepted the gift, he has at least admitted his imperfection as a true sage.
So if we hear about “bikurim”, the victims of the first fruits, and wanted to help someone, let’s learn from this story and do it without big words and gestures. Let’s appreciate how provided we are and help so that we do not embarrass the gift in any way.