Ra'anana Community Kollel

                          Working on the Small Things

                                                   Rabbi Binyomin Lipson

In this week’s parshah an entire chapter is devoted to describing the cycle of the Jewish holidays. Pesach, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot are all described in brief detail, together with their respective offerings. However, in the midst of this narrative there is one verse which just doesn’t seem to fit. After describing the holiday of Shavuot, the Torah tells us, “And when you gather in the crops of your land, do not harvest the edges or your field and do not collect the fallen sheaves; to the poor and the stranger you shall abandon them.” Granted, the Torah’s instruction that we assist those who are less fortunate by leaving them a portion of our harvest is one of great significance, but what is it doing here? Was it really necessary to tell us this now?

Rashi, also troubled by this problem quotes the explanation given in the Midrash, “Rebbi Avdimi asked, ‘Why did the Torah place these mitzvot in the midst of its description of the holidays? To teach us that anyone who fulfills them properly is regarded as if he built the Beit Hamikdash and offered the sacrifices therein.’”

Agreed. Giving gifts to the poor and assisting them to meet their daily expenses is inarguably a tremendous mitzvah. However, why was it singled out here? What’s more, the Torah contains many, many similar commandments which are directed at assisting one’s fellow man. What makes the mitzvot of giving the agricultural tithes so much greater?

The Gemara in Mesechet Yevamot describes the procedure which we should follow when approached by a potential convert. When a gentile comes forward and expresses the desire to convert we first attempt to dissuade him by relating the suffering which the Jewish nation has experienced and continues to endure. If after this he still wishes to convert we accept him “ . . . and we teach him some of the mitzvot, the lighter and the more severe, and we inform him of the severity of giving the tithes to the poor . . . and the consequences of failing to fulfill them.” Here as well, the great importance of the tithes is clearly evident as it is one of the select halachot that we must be sure to teach a potential convert. Why is this necessary? Of course they are important, however, would we say that they should be numbered amongst the very foundations of Judaism? Of all of the Torah’s mitzvot, why were tithes to the poor singled out?

Perhaps through analyzing the following incident cited in the Gemara we will be able to glean an answer to our questions. The Gemara relates that at the time when the Roman government forbade it, R’ Chanina ben Tradyon would publicly gather scores of students and teach them Torah. Once, R’ Yossi ben Kisma became ill and R’ Chanina went to visit him.

“Why do you continue to teach your students publicly even when the authorities forbid it?” asked R’ Yossi from his sick bed.

“Hashem will have mercy.” answered R’ Chanina.

“But how can you rely on a miracle to save you?” continued R’ Yossi. “I would be surprised if the Romans do not burn you together with the Torah scroll from which you teach.”

Instead of replying, R’ Chanina asked R’ Yossi a question. “Tell me, will I merit to enter the World to Come?”

“Have you ever achieved a great deed?” asked R’ Yossi.

“Yes,” answered R’ Chanina. “Once I had set aside two sums of money, one for my Purim meal and one to be given to the poor. Accidentally, the two became confused and as I could no longer discern which was which I gave them both to the needy.”

R’ Yossi replied, “Having performed this great deed you can be sure that you will receive a portion in the World to Come.”

There are two questions which need to be answered concerning this incident. First of all, Why did R’ Yossi need to ask R’ Chanina if he had ever performed a great deed? Was the fact that he risked his life daily in order to teach Torah not enough? And secondly, was R’ Chanina’s decision to give all of the money to charity so significant that he could thereby rest assured that he would merit a portion in the World to Come? Was this the greatest act that he had ever done?

The Rambam in his commentary to Pirke Avot explains that what R’ Yossi wanted to know was if R’ Chanina had ever performed a deed which was performed solely for the sake of Heaven, without considerations of personal gain. Amazingly, this is why the fact that he literally risked his life to teach Torah did not prove sufficient. Although this teaching constituted a truly great act of self-sacrifice, because it was done in public it could not be considered absolutely free of thoughts of personal benefit. On the other hand, this is what was so special about the money which R’ Chanina donated to charity. As this incident occurred completely in private without the knowledge of others, it could indeed be considered a perfect act.

Perhaps now we can understand the great significance which the Torah places on the tithes. The Torah emphasizes that these gifts are not to be given directly to the poor, but rather the verse specifies, “ . . . to the poor and the stranger you shall abandon them.” This means that the tithes must simply be left in the field for the poor to come and take; without fanfare and without ceremony. In addition, the designation of the tithes is something which takes place when a person is alone in his field during the harvest. Specifically at the time when he is gathering in his long-awaited crops, the Torah tests him by commanding him to leave some for the needy. There is no one there to witness his generosity, and he does not know which person will eventually receive it.

The tithes are the kind of mitzvot that R’ Yossi was looking for, and therein lies their uniqueness. A potential convert must be told about the tithes because yes, they, and other mitzvot like them, are primary to Jewish philosophy and belief. As Jews, we are commanded to sanctify not only the public aspects of our lives, but also the private ones as well, and in truth, the way that we act between ourselves and our Creator is often far more revealing about who we really are.

(adapted from “Shabbat Shiurim”
by Rabbi Mordechai Miller zatzal)