This week I shared a harrowing but profound personal story with our students. The incident occurred fourteen years ago in Israel. I was standing at a bus stop with my five year old son, who suffered off and on from childhood asthma. I was headed to do some errands in Jerusalem and invited him to come along. It was early in the morning, so instead of eating breakfast as usual, he took along some Cornflakes in a sandwich bag to eat on the way. As we were at the bus stop, he started coughing; within seconds I realized that the food was stuck in his throat and that he was unable to breathe! At that very moment, our bus arrived, the door opened, and the bus driver caught on to what was happening. He began shouting instructions to me. Like a soldier listening to his commander, I did what he said and thankfully was able to save my son. Seeing that we were too shaken to head to Jerusalem at that time, he drove away.

 

For weeks afterward, I carried a card and a cash gift with me, hoping to find the same driver so that I could thank him. I finally did succeed in catching him. His name was Albert Mubarak, a Christian Arab resident of Jerusalem. At a loss for words, I handed him the card, and blurted out an awkward but spontaneous "thank you!"

 

Mission accomplished!

 

Parashat Ki Tavo begins with the mitzvah of Bikkurim. A Jewish farmer in Israel is mandated on the holiday of Shavuot to bring his season's firstfruits to the Beit Hamikdash, to hand them to the Kohen (priest), and to recite the following:

 

My ancestor was a homeless Aramaean. He went to Egypt with a small number of men and lived there as an immigrant, but it was there that he became a great, powerful, and populous nation.

We cried out to God, Lord of our ancestors, and God heard our voice, seeing our suffering, our harsh labor, and our distress.

God then brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and an outstretched arm with great visions and with signs and miracles.

He brought us to this area, giving us this land flowing with milk and honey.

I am now bringing the first fruit of the land that God has given me.

With that, you shall set the basket down before God your Lord, and you shall then bow down before God your Lord.

 

Question: This takes place less than two months after Passover. Was the Kohen not at a Passover Seder? Is he that unaware of Jewish history that the average farmer has to give him a mini-shiur (lesson) on the topic of the exodus from Egypt, the wanderings in the desert, and the settling of Eretz Yisrael?

 

The answer is pretty basic: This overview of Jewish history is not for the Kohen - it is for the farmer. A successful Jewish farmer could mistakenly attribute the bountiful crops to his own ingenuity and blood, sweat and tears. The Torah's message is that we must temper the pride in our accomplishments with a realization of the ultimate source of our achievements. In the case of the Jewish people, had God not responded to their cries - from the depth of the Egyptian exile - in the affirmative, no settlement in the Jewish homeland would have been possible. When we trace our roots, we begin to better appreciate how we got to where we are today! So the farmer is reciting the text as a form of meditation for himself, with the goal of cultivating his deep sense of Hakarat HaTov, gratitude to God.

 

Speaking of gratitude, I want to personally thank our staff, students, parents, board of trustees and supporters for helping us get off to a great start this year. Not only are we all learning a lot, but we are also very much enjoying each other's company. On that note, we are looking forward to hosting the students for Shabbat NYHS this Shabbat, as we continue to build new relationships and strengthen existing ones.

 

Shabbat Shalom!