A Wandering Aramaic was my Father

KI TAVÓ - Deuteronomy XXVI - XXIX, 8

Once settled in Israel, Moshe instructs our ancestors regarding their obligations, even though he will not lead them to the conquest of the promised land. The first of these Mitzvot is related to Bikurim, which are the first fruits (the seven species that characterize the Land of Israel) that must be offered to the Kohen in the place chosen by God. The delivery of these fruits is accompanied by a “sipur”, the recitation of several verses from our text that highlight that Providence guided our destiny from the moment the Patriarch Yaacov descended to Egypt until the moment of the conquest.

After several centuries of slavery and nomadic journey through the desert, the people were eager to till the new lands so that they could feed on the fruit of their efforts. Like all peasants, they eagerly anticipated the opportunity to savor the fruits they had produced with their work. But the Torah requires that the first fruits be used for religious worship. The teaching is clear. Man has to recognize that God, through nature, is the one who makes the fruit grow. Man plows, sows and waters, but to be able to reap, the vigor and the possibility of reproducing that the earth grants to the seed, everything comes from God.

The Torah does not stipulate the quantity of fruits to be presented to the Kohen in a basket at the time of the mentioned Bikurim. The Kohén could retain the basket if it was made of wicker, but if it was made of some metal, he had to return it to the donor. The Talmud suggests a minimum quantity of fruits corresponding to one-sixtieth of the total product. Rambam, drawing on the Talmud, describes the process of selecting the first fruits. Upon entering the orchard, Rambam says, the trees are inspected and a ribbon is tied over the first fruits (even if they are not yet ripe), thus separating them, so that they become part of Bikurim. One should bring Bikurim to Yerushalayim oneself and not send them through a messenger. The Kohén who received the Bikurim could only consume them in Yerushalayim.

The tradition consists of placing the basket on the shoulder and according to the Mishnah, even King Agrippa did it, carrying the Bikurim himself once in the Har haBayit, the Temple Mount, until the azara, inside the Beit HaMikdash. At that time, the Leviyim sang the song of the words of the psalm, aromimecha HaShem ki dilitani …, “I will exalt you, Eternal, because you have sustained me and you did not tolerate that my enemies rejoice over me.” The basket was presented to the Kohen at the same time that some verses from our text were repeated, which Rambam calls “vidui”, which means confession. This “vidui” had to be recited in Hebrew and at its conclusion, the basket was placed next to the mizbeach, which is the altar.

Yet, Shema Israel, which is the basic affirmation of our faith, can be recited in any language. Because the most important thing is to understand the idea contained in Shema Israel. The essential idea is to understand the intellectual scope of the affirmation of the existence of only one God. But, in the case of Bikurim, there is a splendid ceremonial and the very delivery of the fruits to the Kohen contains already the essential message that our efforts are in vain without Divine Providence. At first, those who knew the text that accompanies Bikurim well recited it by heart, and those who did not know it listened to its reading. But since people who did not know the textual words well began to refrain from presenting Bikurim, the Chachamim instituted that the original text is read aloud to all, without distinction.

The Torah instructs that for the ceremony of Bikurim, veanita vermarta, the voice should be raised and recite: arami oved avi, remembering that our patriarch Yaacov had been a wandering Aramaic before going down to Egypt. During the Egyptian yoke, God heard our lament and echoed our suffering. God brought us out of slavery and brought us to the land where milk and honey flow. And here are the Bikurim, the first fruits obtained, thanks to Divine goodness, and that constitutes a reason for rejoicing and happiness.

As a consequence of the episode of the Meraglim, the spies, all those who had come of age in Egypt, perished in the desert and therefore did not participate in the conquest of the land. Those who are now in charge of presenting Bikurim are their descendants or those who had been minors at the time of their departure from Egypt. The exodus was then a recent event in the history of our people. However, our Chachamim insist that the instructions of the Torah are valid for all ages and the original text must be repeated. Centuries later, each one will appear in front of the Kohen reciting likewise, arami oved avi …, vayreu otanu hamitsrim vayanunu, “A wandering Aramaic was my father … but the Egyptians mistreated us.” This statement implies that the feeling of having been mistreated by the Egyptians still persists in each person, despite the centuries that separate us from that time. Similarly, Moshe Rabbenu states in a previous chapter, lo et avotenu karat HaShem et haBerit hazot …, which means, not (only) with our fathers did He make this covenant (on Mount Sinai) but (also) with us, those who are alive here and now.

On the night of the Seder, we recite in the Haggadah, chayav adam lirot et atsmo keilu hu yatsa mimitsrayim, which means that each one must consider as if he himself had participated in the exodus from Egypt. We locate ourselves in the place and in the time of our ancestors in Egypt. Indeed, we recite these same verses from our weekly text and abound in additional details, to point out that Yetsiat Mitsrayim is an event inseparable from our formation and nationality. Yetsiat Mitsrayim testifies to God’s intervention in History and His response to our supplications. Yes, there is He Who answers prayers, and there is He Who cares for the oppressed. Especially in moments when we feel the apparent absence of divinity, Yetsiat Mitsrayim affirms that Divine intervention occurs at the right moment.

The history (religious and ideological) of the Jewish people does not consist of an analysis of facts and thoughts that belong to the past and that have a probable influence on our present and future. Our past history is an integral part of our present. Verb tenses are not clearly defined in the grammar of the Hebrew language. Such as ein mukdam umeuchar baTorah, which means that the story of the Torah does not follow a chronological order, in this sense, the events that happened to our ancestors, at different times, are current and are part of our present.

We never allowed Israel to belong exclusively to the tale of exploits of other times. At all times, Erets Israel was an integral part of our discussions and studies, of our writings and prayers. We raised our prayers for rain in Shemini Atseret during the long exile of almost two thousand years, just as we would have done if we had then resided on the Promised Land. The exile was a real physical event. But ideally, we never left that land. Therefore, the current return to Israel did not require transcendental emotional adjustments for the Jew, nor was a period of social and political consolidation necessary, which for other peoples is usually a reality in the initial stage of their independent national consolidation.