Rashi interprets this verse in context of the mitzvah of Bikkurim, as indicating a promise rather than a directive. Quoting the Tanchuma, he depicts how ‘a heavenly voice blesses [the bringer] him:“You have brought the Bikkurim/ first fruits today — so will you merit to bring them next year!”

The Jewish expression after experiencing moments of inspiring togetherness and warmth to wish one another that G-d should grant us “tzu derleiben iber a Yahr”— that we should relive this moment a year from now as well, is evidently an ancient tradition. Yet, it is only regarding the fulfillment of this specific command that we find an ‘assurance’ that indeed we will.

What is it that distinguishes it from all other mitzvos?

There is a fascinating debate whether this command, to bring one’s first fruits in a basket, presenting it to the Kohen, placing it before the Altar and reciting the portion of Arami Oved Avi, that links the bringer of Bikkurim to our glorious history going back to the Patriarchs, is applicable during the Sheviis year.

Rashi in parshas Mishpatim seems to say that it does, while many others firmly assert it cannot be, averring that it is simply a printer’s error.

Aside from the mainly halachic challenges to this position, the Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh asserts that it hashkafically impossible.

Shemitah, he states, is a year when the land is solely owned by G-d, as it is only given to Man for the six years prior. What significance, he asks, can there be in taking and ‘generously’ presenting the ‘first fruits’ to the Kohen, in testament of G-d’s involvement in his success, when it is not even his in the first place?!

Generally, the bringing of one’s first fruits to the Mikdash is an assertion of G-d’s intimate involvement in all of one’s accomplishment that reflect on our unique mission, that can only be achieved with His help. But within that acknowledgment still exists a sense of personal achievement.

Perhaps in a Shemitah year, when one brings Bikkurim, he is taking it one step further. We are not merely partners — with G-d the major shareholder — we are instead a son at his father’s table, who simply relishes the privileged relationship of a devoted father, who takes care of all my needs, independent of ‘my’ contribution.

Rashi points out that after the command to leave the land fallow and untended, it mentions the injunction to keep Shabbos and to celebrate the Three Pilgrimage festivals. This is to emphasize that even during the Shemitah year, that attests to G-d’s total mastery of the world, one must still keep Shabbos and trek to the Mikdash during the festivals. One might have thought those observances are redundant, simply reiterating G-d’s role as the Creator who remains in total control of His world. By refraining from work on Shabbos and leaving our homesteads exposed when traveling to the Mikdash, we are testifying to his control of our lives and all its consequences. Why the need for a triple testament during a year that proclaims so loudly our submission totally to His mastery?

Nevertheless, we do. It is because we are not merely interested in paying homage, we are yearning for His closeness! We want the warmth of a relationship.

Similarly, this may be behind Rashi’s assertion that even during the Shemitah year, we bring Bikkurim. It is not about our investment in the land that needs definition, but rather our zeal and joy to sit at G-d’s table that seeks expression by our joyously presenting these first fruits.

When one brings Bikkurim with that mindset, one is assured that the relationship will continue.

The Mishna describes how a ‘man goes down into his field, sees a fig that ripened... he ties a גמי — reed-rope around it and says: Let these be bikkurim.’

Reb Moshe Leib Sosover wondered why the גֶמִי/ reed-rope, was selected. He suggested, that ג-מ-י is an acronym for the phrase in Psalms: גדולים מעשי י-ק-ו-ק — Great are the deeds of Hashem.

We must not just pledge allegiance to G-d, we must step back and see the many wondrous ways in which G-d involves Himself intimately in every fiber of our lives.

We have lived through a difficult year, yet have benefited so greatly, and somehow thrived.

We must seek the relationship and cultivate it so that we too may be assured that just as we have merited to endure as we did in the previous year with all its complication, so may we persevere to merit a heavenly voice calling out to us “tzu derleiben iber a Yahr”— that we should relive this moment a year from now as well, in good health, happiness and inspired growth.

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן