From the Pages of the OU Press

The mishnayot in Massechet Bikkurim describe the pomp and circumstance which surrounded the bringing of the bikkurim by the farmers to Jerusalem. The procession involved a large group led by an ox whose horns were plated with gold. A flute was played at the head of the parade, announcing that the bikkurim procession was headed toward Jerusalem.

But why this mitzvah? Why did the Torah choose bikkurim to be presented in such a unique and public fashion? What differentiates bikkurim from, say, ma’aser sheni, which is also brought to Jerusalem?

We are always apologizing. New research contends that most of us apologize about four times a week. We say sorry all of the time. Reading the findings might lead us to believe that as people we are honest, generally contrite, humble, able to confront our mistakes and also take accountability for them – until you read further; we actually apologize 22 percent more to strangers than to romantic partners and family.

In the “Al Het” sin list we read multiple times over Yom Kippur, the appearance of a confession about eating and drinking seems odd; it feels prosaic and trivial next to unwarranted hatred or speaking ill of others. It takes physical strength to fast; it takes mental determination to quell physical desire. To have that determination, you need to know what you’re fasting for and why.

Preparations for Tefillah

The Sages teach that one should prepare oneself, both physically and spiritually, for prayer. One’s appearance and attire should be appropriate for an encounter with God; in addition, one should mentally and spiritually prepare for such a meeting. One should also limit certain activities before praying, in order to emphasize the centrality and significance of prayer in one’s daily religious routine.

Within the Shema we find two references to the mitzvah of tefillin which you, as a new bar mitzvah, are now required to observe. In both the first portion of the Shema, which was read today, and the second portion, which we will read next week, Hashem commands Bnei Yisrael to “bind them as a sign upon your arm, and let them be ‘totafot’ between your eyes.” That Hashem saw fit to mention this mitzvah twice in the Shema suggests that this mitzvah carries with it a special message, a message which bears upon all the other mitzvoth that you are now required to observe.

The Rav discusses what we mourn for on Tisha B’Av. It is not only the Hurban Beit HaMikdash in the material sense, but also the Hurban Beit HaMikdash in the spiritual sense, the destruction of centers of Torah and the thousands of towns and villages over the ages where Jews lived a sacred life.

Ours is an age which has forgotten how to cry.” Rabbi Norman Lamm, chancellor of Yeshiva University, offered this observation in a sermon he gave on Rosh HaShana called “Three Who Cried.” Rosh HaShana is a time when many of us cry over ourselves and our wrongs, and sometimes over the state of the world. Rabbi Lamm speaks of three types of tears: the tears that come when our myths of absolute security and certainty are shattered; the tears of those who resign themselves to hopelessness; and the tears of those who cry over reality, not from frustration or resignation, but from a determination to change and renew that reality. Jewish crying fits the last of these categories: the act of crying, according to Rabbi Lamm, is the beginning of transformation – the tears are those of protest and resolute purpose.

This kina, by Rabbi Kalonymos ben Yehuda of Speyer, laments the massacres perpetrated by the Crusaders in 1096, which destroyed the most prominent Jewish communities of the Rhineland. The main motif of this kina (מי יתן ראשי מים, Mi Yiten Roshi Mayim), a motif found in some of the prior kinot, is that the death of the righteous is equivalent to the burning of the Beit HaMikdash.