September 19
Parshat Ki Savo, Deuteronomy, 5768
Imagine the scene. Waking up morning after morning, checking the crop to see when it's ripe enough to pick. Soon, you think - just another day - as your family decorates awaiting baskets with all the splendor they can muster. And then it comes, the first fruits of all your labor, sparkling in the morning dew as miraculous and beautiful as they are succulent and plentiful. You pick just a few, just enough. A basket full of them, of all your crops' first fruits, is loaded on the donkey and sent on the three day's journey to Jerusalem, with you in tow.
For three days you caravan and mingle with Jews from all corners, making their identical pilgrimage, and as the excitement builds your feet feel magnetically pulled towards the rising hills of the City of Gold. The density of travelers increases as you edge along. You can hear the dancing, the music, you can smell the incense and almost taste the offerings. And just above the next hill, it all becomes clear.
"Jerusalem, if I forget thee, let my right hand wither..." you whisper. Her splendor unwraps in front of you as you approach. The myriads of fruit-bearing pilgrims cover every stretch of visible earth, making their way into the Temple gates - it looks as if the whole world is being drawn inwards towards the Holy of Holies. "Ahhh, Jews," you think, "precious Jews whose only pleasure in life is the deepest expression of gratitude imaginable." Each Jew with his fruits, waiting with baited breath to bring them to the Cohen and declare his place in history amongst his people (yes, you'll have to present your basket with a scripted rendition of Jewish history, much like the Passover Seder). The magic combination is rightly a public demonstration of one's place in Jewish history, while sanctifying every second, minute, season or epoch with a transcendent array of first fruits. The choicest, finest and purest issue of God's earthly womb, brought back to him with sacrifice, determination, lengthy travels, and such welcomed euphoria.
As you hand your basket to the Cohen and witness its waving, you make the great Jewish testament to the most intimate and lucrative partnership imaginable. God gives, and you complete and return. But your fruits are only the beginning. Your life is infused with that same message - resounding through every endeavor and commitment you're prepared to take henceforth - what I've been given, I must return back complete and whole. Just as this week's Torah portion recounts this most spectacular of mitzvoth, it should also serve as inspiration in the coming days of Rosh Hashanah - days of renewal, of growth, of priorities, of completion, and ultimately of return.
Good Shabbos
Imagine the scene. Waking up morning after morning, checking the crop to see when it's ripe enough to pick. Soon, you think - just another day - as your family decorates awaiting baskets with all the splendor they can muster. And then it comes, the first fruits of all your labor, sparkling in the morning dew as miraculous and beautiful as they are succulent and plentiful. You pick just a few, just enough. A basket full of them, of all your crops' first fruits, is loaded on the donkey and sent on the three day's journey to Jerusalem, with you in tow.
For three days you caravan and mingle with Jews from all corners, making their identical pilgrimage, and as the excitement builds your feet feel magnetically pulled towards the rising hills of the City of Gold. The density of travelers increases as you edge along. You can hear the dancing, the music, you can smell the incense and almost taste the offerings. And just above the next hill, it all becomes clear.
"Jerusalem, if I forget thee, let my right hand wither..." you whisper. Her splendor unwraps in front of you as you approach. The myriads of fruit-bearing pilgrims cover every stretch of visible earth, making their way into the Temple gates - it looks as if the whole world is being drawn inwards towards the Holy of Holies. "Ahhh, Jews," you think, "precious Jews whose only pleasure in life is the deepest expression of gratitude imaginable." Each Jew with his fruits, waiting with baited breath to bring them to the Cohen and declare his place in history amongst his people (yes, you'll have to present your basket with a scripted rendition of Jewish history, much like the Passover Seder). The magic combination is rightly a public demonstration of one's place in Jewish history, while sanctifying every second, minute, season or epoch with a transcendent array of first fruits. The choicest, finest and purest issue of God's earthly womb, brought back to him with sacrifice, determination, lengthy travels, and such welcomed euphoria.
As you hand your basket to the Cohen and witness its waving, you make the great Jewish testament to the most intimate and lucrative partnership imaginable. God gives, and you complete and return. But your fruits are only the beginning. Your life is infused with that same message - resounding through every endeavor and commitment you're prepared to take henceforth - what I've been given, I must return back complete and whole. Just as this week's Torah portion recounts this most spectacular of mitzvoth, it should also serve as inspiration in the coming days of Rosh Hashanah - days of renewal, of growth, of priorities, of completion, and ultimately of return.
Good Shabbos
posted by Rabbi Lynn at
3:29 PM
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