Featured Shavuot Guest – Rabbi Yakov Nagen – The Holiday Of Bikkurim

The First-Fruits Experience

Bikkurim 3:1

The Five Books of Moses tell the story of deferred promises, of obstacles that prevent the realization of expectations. Our forefathers are ever on the way, and it seems they will never reach the Promised Land. But finally, near the end of Deuteronomy, in the description of the ritual of first fruits, the ending is divulged:

And it shall be, when you come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you for an inheritance – and possess it, and dwell therein – that you shall take of the first of all the fruit of the ground.… “And the Lord brought us forth out of Egypt with a mighty hand.… And He has brought us into this place, and has given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruit of the land, which You, O Lord, have given me.” And you shall set it down.… And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given you. (Deuteronomy 26:1–11)

The above verses are laden with future-tense verbs: possess, dwell, take, set down. The mitzva of bringing first fruits to the Temple is portrayed as a continuation of the conquest and settlement of the land. Thus, the tone is not imperative or legalistic, but rather fits into the description of future life in the Promised Land. Bringing first fruits is an inseparable part of the happy ending to the people’s desert wanderings, a personal expression of rejoicing and thanks over the fulfillment of the divine promise, a state of fairytale bliss: “And they lived happily ever after.”

Every year, those who bring first fruits recap the entire story – from the descent into Egypt until the Exodus and the salvation from bondage. The bringer tells it all in the first person, as a personal story, thus fulfilling the Mishna’s imperative: “a person must see himself as though he [personally] had gone out of Egypt” (Pesaĥim 10:5). Every year, we experience the story anew.

The Mishna also emphasizes individual experience when it comes to bringing the fruits themselves:

How does one designate the first fruits? One goes into one’s field and sees a fruit-bearing fig tree, a fruit-bearing [grape]vine, or a fruit-bearing pomegranate tree, and ties it [the fruit] with a string and says, “Behold, these are first fruits.” Rabbi Shimon says, even so, one reiterates and declares them first fruits once they have been picked from the ground. (Bikkurim 3:1)

Our mishna’s style is reminiscent of the biblical verses, in that it relates a story rather than a halakhic imperative. Like the verses, it is organized around a series of actions – “goes into,” “sees,” “ties,” and “says” – and like the verses, it is hard to distinguish between mere description and the halakhic imperative mood. “Behold, these are first fruits” can just as easily be a description of the reality of “a fruit-bearing fig tree” as it is a halakhic declaration. A naïve reader of our mishna would not conclude that the declaration, “Behold, these are first fruits,” has halakhic implications.

The Mishna describes the special moment where a farmer first sees the fruits of his labor. According to the Mishna, the fruits that one dedicates for first fruits are determined not by external measures, but rather by one’s personal outlook. As in the Bible, this emphasizes the commandment’s personal and subjective side. Rabbi Shimon defines the fruit dedicated to first fruits based on two moments – when they are seen and when they are picked. The first Tanna in our mishna, in contrast, defines it solely based on the moving moment when the farmer first sees the fruits – unlike most agricultural commandments, there is no requirement to wait for the harvest.

The first year that first fruits were brought to the Temple in Jerusalem, everyone was immensely excited. The Mishna’s emphasis on one’s emotions in the moment when one finds the first fruits in one’s field helps to maintain those feelings of discovery, freshness, and renewal every year. When one brings the first fruits to the Temple, one brings produce that is charged with emotion, and thus can express, simply and completely, his joy over the fulfillment of God’s promise in his life.

First Fruits: Who Brings to Whom?

Bikkurim, chapter 3

With first fruits, on the face of it, it appears as though the person is the giver and God is the receiver. However, if we examine the verses regarding first fruits, we learn that although giving is mentioned many times, the roles are reversed, and it is God who gives to humans. The bringing of first fruits, in contrast, is not described as “giving”[1]:

And it shall be, when you come into the land that the Lord Your God is giving you for an inheritance – and possess it, and dwell therein – that you shall take of the first of all the fruit of the ground.… “And the Lord brought us forth out of Egypt with a mighty hand.… And He has brought us into this place, and has given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruit of the land, which You, O Lord, have given me.” And you shall set it down.… And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given you. (Deuteronomy 26:1–11)

As we explained above, the bringing of first fruits to the Temple is meant to express the happiness and joy of one who has seen God’s promises fulfilled. In other words, the focus of the commandment is God’s giving to man, not vice versa. This point is put into starker relief when the Mishna describes the bringing of first fruits to the Temple:

A bull would go before them, whose horns would be plated with gold, and it would have an olive wreath around its head. The flute would play before them until they neared Jerusalem. Once they neared Jerusalem, they would send [a messenger] ahead of them and adorn their first fruits. The overseers and the officers and the treasurers would go out to greet them; in accordance with the stature of those coming in would they go out. All the artisans of Jerusalem would stand before them and greet them, “Our brothers from such and such place, come in peace!” (Bikkurim 3:3)

First Fruits are brought to the Temple in a picturesque procession, accompanied by musicians and gold-adorned animals. As soon as the procession arrives at the big city, it is greeted by dignitaries, and residents stand in its honor, as they would before an elder or a sage. There is of course no correlation between the monetary value of the first fruits and the honor that its bringers are accorded.

The key to understanding this procession lies in grasping the importance of first fruits, not as mere fruit, but as a symbol of life in which the divine promise has been actualized. The rejoicing of the people of Jerusalem upon seeing the bringers, and the honor that they heap on them, is the final detail in the scene described by the Mishna of the first-fruits procession:

The flute would continue playing before them until they arrived at the Temple Mount. Once they arrived at the Temple Mount, even Agripas the king would carry his basket on his shoulder and enter until he reached the courtyard. Once they got to the courtyard, the Levites would speak in song (Psalms 30:2), “I will extol you, O Lord, because you have raised me and not allowed my enemies to rejoice over me.” (Bikkurim 3:4)

Bringers of first fruits would have to enter the Temple with a basket on their shoulders. The importance of the positioning of the bringer as part of the ceremony implies that when one brings the fruits to the Temple, one is in fact showing oneself before God. Furthermore, when one would enter the courtyard, the Levites would not sing about the fruits but rather about the human realm: “I will extol you, O Lord, because you have raised me.” The focus is the person, and the fruits are merely a means to express the joy in that person’s life.

How do they bring up the first fruits [to Jerusalem]? All the cities of a region would go into the [central] city of that region and sleep in the streets of that city without going into the houses. When they arose, the supervisor would say, “Arise! Let us go up to Zion, to the house of the Lord our God.” (Bikkurim 3:2)

The mishna opens by asking how the people would “bring up the first fruits” and ends with the statement “Let us go up to Zion, to the house of the Lord our God.” At first the fruits are brought up, and then the people are elevated ever higher.


[1] In this context, the description of the mitzva of first fruits can be contrasted with the description of the tithe: “When you have made an end of tithing all the tithe of your increase in the third year, which is the year of tithing, and have given it to the Levite, to the stranger, to the fatherless, and to the widow, so that they may eat within your gates, and be satisfied, then you shall say before the Lord your God: ‘I have put away the hallowed things out of my house, and also have given them to the Levite, and to the stranger, to the fatherless, and to the widow’” (Deuteronomy 26:12–13).

“And They Lived Happily Ever After”

The Torah is full of stories about deferred promises, obstacles that prevent expectations from being fulfilled. Our forefathers are always on the path, their rest and contentment not even on the horizon. But then, near the end of Deuteronomy, we learn about bikkurim, and the ending of the story is given away:

And it shall be, when thou art come in unto the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance, and dost possess it, and dwell therein; that thou shalt take of the first of all the fruit of the ground…. “And the Lord brought us forth out of Egypt with a mighty hand…. And He hath brought us into this place, and hath given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruit of the land, which Thou, O Lord, hast given me.” And thou shalt set it down…. And thou shalt rejoice in all the good which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee. (Deut. 26:1–6)

The above verses are laden with future-tense verbs: possess, dwell, take, set down. The mitzva of bringing bikkurim to the Temple is portrayed as a continuation of the conquering and settlement of the land. Thus, the tone is not imperative or legalistic, but rather fits into the description of future life in the Promised Land. Bringing bikkurim is an inseparable part of the happy ending to the people’s desert wanderings, an expression of rejoicing and thanks over the fulfillment of the divine promise, a state of fairytale bliss: “And they lived happily ever after.”

While on the face of it, the person is the giver and God is on the receiving end – and indeed giving is mentioned multiple times in the verses – it is God who is giving to the person:

And it shall be, when thou art come in unto the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance… “…and hath given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruit of the land, which Thou, O Lord, hast given me.” And thou shalt set it down…. And thou shalt rejoice in all the good which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee.

The Lord is the giver, and the person receives and brings bikkurim to the Temple, in an expression of joy over those gifts. 

Joy Is in the Present

Judaism is often occupied with memory of the past and anticipation of the future. One can learn from the past, and it is good to know what future to strive for, but one cannot overlook the present. The ability to focus on the present and the capacity for joy are closely related. The statement “Everything will be okay” is not a blessing – not only because it denies the good that already exists in the present, but because it also negates the future good. Those who ignore the present in favor of future hopes may not notice when all the good they yearned for comes to pass.

Yet, the link between the present and joy is even more profound. A person’s capacity to be present in the present, to be aware of the moment and work with it, is the capacity to experience life itself, for only the moment is where life happens. A direct connection to life is the basis for joy. It is apparent that when we are happy we feel full of life, and when we are sad we are bereft of life. Joy over our reality in the here and now is what we learn from bikkurim:

[A]nd hath given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruit of the land, which Thou, O Lord, hast given me…. And thou shalt rejoice in all the good which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee, and unto thy house.

Rabbi Dr. Yakov Nagen is the  Director of Ohr Torah Stone’s Blickle Institute for Interfaith Dialogue and Beit Midrash for Judaism and Humanity.