How did Levin
Kipnis, the author of this classic Israeli children’s song, know that aטנא -tenne is a basket?
The word tenne appears only
four times in the Bible, all of them in this week’s portion: twice in verses
describing the presentation of the first fruits, and twice in chapter 28:
“Blessed shall be your tenne
and
your kneading bowl” (verse 5) and the inverse in verse 17. In these contexts, a
tenne could be a
crate, a bucket or even a wheelbarrow. Apparently Kipnis knew the Mishnah describing
how first fruits were brought to Jerusalem in a grand procession:
The
flute would play before them until they arrived at the Temple Mount. Once they
arrived at the Temple Mount, even King Agrippas would carry his basket on his
shoulder until he reached the courtyard (Mishnah Bikkurim 3:4).
I
quoted the entire sentence because it contains additional evidence that Kipnis
based the song on the Mishnah: the basket is carried on the shoulder, and a rare
word הךfor playing the flute, which appears in the
song as originally written in the 1929 (another, later version uses a common
word).
 |
| Original bulletin for kindergarten teachers 1929 |
Returning
to the Mishnah: “even King Agrippas would carry his basket on his shoulder.” Observance
of the mitzvah applies to every Jew, regardless of social, public or
political status. The mitzvah applies to everyone, but the details were
different. Later in the chapter we read:
Wealthy people would bring their first
fruits in baskets of silver and of gold. Poor people would bring theirs in
wicker baskets of woven willow stems. The wicker baskets and the fruits were
given to the priests (Mishnah Bikkurim 3:8).
Sifrei,
an anthology of midrash from the same period as the Mishnah, cites the above and
explains that the poor people’s baskets were given to the priests, so they could
earn extra merit.
The
difference in custom is based on economic status seems odd to me. In other
cases, the rabbis established uniform customs specifically in order to avoid shaming
on the poor. In the same chapter, the Mishnah reports that the priests recited
the First Fruits Declaration (“My father was a wander Aramean”) verse-by-verse
in order not to embarrass anyone who did not know the text by heart. Why were
they considerate of educational differences but not financial ones? Why were
the rich deprived of the merit of giving the baskets to the priests? Conversely,
why were the poor burdened with the additional expense of obtaining a new
basket every year?
Rabbi
Meir ben Yechiel Michal Wisser (“Malbim,” 19th century) interpreted
the Torah in light of the Midrash, and explained that the poor deserved
additional merit because they made an effort to weave the basket themselves. He
adds that if the wealthy bought baskets it was appropriate that they be plated
with silver or gold so as not to degrade the mitzvah.
Let’s
assume that his social analysis, that the rich will not make the effort to weave
a basket themselves, even for the sake of a mitzvah, and the poor do not have
the option of buying a simple basket reflects the reality in which he lived.
Beyond the specific case, I see here a deeper message: There are different ways
to keep a mitzvah, but they all require investment and thought. If you buy a
basket, buy the best you can. If you weave it yourself, the effort adds to the value.
Without
the Temple, the mitzvah of bringing first fruits is not currently applicable,
but the personal responsibility of each and every person to observe the mitzvot,
both interpersonal and ritual, remains unchanged.
The continuation of the portion promises blessings and curses for observance. The mechanism of reward and punishment it presents is simplistic, and does not correspond to reality. I would not dare to promise that keeping the mitzvot will necessarily be rewarded with material blessings (or vice versa), but I will venture to say that if the future of the Jewish people, and the State of Israel as a Jewish state – in substance, not just by declaration – is important to us, there is no better way to ensure that end than building Israeli culture on our people’s classical texts and values, following the example of Kipnis and the Mishna, by renewing our culture on the foundation of traditional sources and values, and by taking personal responsibility for Torah and mitzvot: weave a basket, place it on your shoulder, and move forward.
The continuation of the portion promises blessings and curses for observance. The mechanism of reward and punishment it presents is simplistic, and does not correspond to reality. I would not dare to promise that keeping the mitzvot will necessarily be rewarded with material blessings (or vice versa), but I will venture to say that if the future of the Jewish people, and the State of Israel as a Jewish state – in substance, not just by declaration – is important to us, there is no better way to ensure that end than building Israeli culture on our people’s classical texts and values, following the example of Kipnis and the Mishna, by renewing our culture on the foundation of traditional sources and values, and by taking personal responsibility for Torah and mitzvot: weave a basket, place it on your shoulder, and move forward.
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