Parashat Ki Tetze is comprised of a collection of various parshiyot, the juxtaposition of each to its fellow is explained by Rashi respectively. (For example the juxtaposition of the beautiful woman taken captive to the case where one has two wives, one beloved unto him and one he dislikes, followed by the case of the rebellious child, etc.)

However there is an additional concurrence of sections that even Rashi does not discuss, and it would seem that our generation understands this incidence only too well such that there is no need to teach it, but rather only to direct our attention to it. This juxtaposition of parshiyot is that of Parashat Ki Tetze to Parashat Ki Tavo, specifically the juxtaposition of the parasha of Amalek to the parasha of the Mikra Bikkurim – the declaration of the first fruits.

At the conclusion of Ki Tetze the Torah states:

“Remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you came out of Egypt;

How he met you by the way, and struck at your rear, all who were feeble behind you, when you were faint and weary; and he did not fear God.

Therefore it shall be, when the Lord your God has given you respite from all your enemies around, in the land which God your Lord gives you for an inheritance to possess, that you shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; you shall not forget it.”

(Devarim 25:17-19)

Immediately thereafter Parashat Ki Tav begins with the parasha of the bringing of the Bikkurim and the Mikra Bikkurim:

“And it shall be, when you come in to the land which God your Lord gives you for an inheritance, and you shall possess it and settle in it.

And you shall take of the first of all the fruit of the earth, which you shall bring of your land that God your Lord gives you, and you shall put it in a basket, and you shall go to the place which the God your Lord shall choose to have His name dwell there.”

(Devarim 26:1,2)

And then:

“And you shall go to the priest who shall be in those days, and say to him: ‘I declare this day to God your Lord, that I have come to the country which the God swore to our fathers to give us.’

And the priest shall take the basket from your hand, and set it down before the altar of God your Lord.”

(ibid. v. 3,4)

And then the Mikra Bikkurim (literally “Declaration of Bikkurim”) begins:

“And you shall respond and say before God your Lord, ‘An Aramean tried to destroy my father, and he went down into Egypt, and sojourned there with a small number (of people), and became there a great, mighty, and populous nation. And the Egyptians dealt ill with us, and they afflicted us, and they placed grueling labor upon us. And we cried to God the Lord of our fathers, God heard our voice, and saw our affliction, and our toil, and our oppression. And God brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand, and with an outstretched arm, and with great visions, and with signs, and with wonders. And He has brought us to this place, and has given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first fruits of the land, which You, God, have given me. And you shall set it before God your Lord, and bow down before God your Lord.”

(ibid v. 5-10)

Then this entire parasha moves towards its climax:

“And you shall rejoice in all the good which God your Lord has given to you, and to your house, you, and the Levi, and the stranger who is among you.”

(ibid. v. 11)

Therefore the mitzva of Mikra Bikkurim must be performed with happiness.

“And you shall rejoice in all the good” is not simply a recommendation, but rather fundamental for the performance of the mitzva. We find an expression of this in Rashi’s commentary which teaches is that the Mikra Bikkurim is only declared in the period between Atzeret (Shavu’ot) and Sukkot – a period which is termed ‘a time of happiness.’ After this period one may still bring the Bikkurim to the Temple, however the Mikra Bikkurim is not declared. Rashi discerns this from our verse “And you shall rejoice in all the good etc.”

These are his words:

“‘And you shall rejoice in all the good’ – from here they stated that the Mikra Bikkurim is only stated during a period of happiness, from Shavu’ot until Sukkot, when one gathers his harvest, his fruits, his wine, and his oil. However from Sukkot onwards – he may bring (his Bikkurim) but does note make the declaration.”

(Rashi, ibid.)

We now observe a hidden question that begins to surface.

This parasha of happiness directly follows the parasha of recalling Amalek and its evil deeds. Parashat Amalek describes horrific events – “and he struck at your rear, all who were feeble behind you, etc.” What relation is there between this harsh event and the parasha whose whole essence is that of happiness?

One may claim that Parashat Mikra Bikkurim teaches us to focus on that half of the glass that is full – however this does not solve our problem, for the Mikra Bikkurim does not solely deal with the good, but it also recognizes the bad that exists in our surrounds: “And the Egyptians dealt ill with us, and they afflicted us…” This section of the Mikra Bikkurim is not solely the recollection of a historic event, but rather an experiential action.

One who makes the Mikra Bikkurim declaration identifies himself completely with the history of Am Yisra’el, to the extent that he declares in the experiential plural:

“And the Egyptians dealt ill with us, and they afflicted us, and they placed grueling labor upon us.”

He so feels the slavery and the distress that rises in the form of a prayer to heaven, such that he also declares in the plural, viewing himself as a part of the experience:

“And we cried to God the Lord of our fathers…”

Thus we observe a person who is connected to his nation with such power that the historical experience becomes his own, real, personal experience. Therefore we may not suggest that the juxtaposition of these two events is simply an attempt to see the good among the bad, or that half of the glass that is full – for the Mikra Bikkurim itself contains motifs that describe difficulty and suffering.

[We must note here that it is unfeasible that the Torah describes one who himself departed Egypt and who is bring his Bikkurim to the Temple, therefore employing the terminology of one who was present during the various events described in the Mikra Bikkurim. One who was present at the exodus from Egypt never had the opportunity to bring Bikkurim, for all those who left Egypt perished in the desert. Only after their descendants entered the land, spending fourteen years in conquering and settling the land was the mitzva of Bikkurim first fulfilled.]

We will attempt to show that Rashi is not simply teaching us the reason for the juxtaposition of Parashat Ki Tetze to Ki Tavo in general, and more specifically of the juxtaposition of parashat Amalek to parashat Mikra Bikkurim, for these are perfectly understandable. It is specifically in our times that the recollection of “what Amalek did to you” after the European death episode as well as the various murder rampages in Eretz Yisra’el which live within us, as well as our generation being the period when after so many years the Jew can go into his fields and harvest the lands fruits, and one day soon in the future recite the Mikra Bikkurim with the rebuilding of our Temple.

Let us recall a concept which we have clarified a number of times previously. Amalek, who battles Israel, is not a historical character. Amalek is not restricted to one specific territory nor to one particular conflict. Amalek is as real today as it was then. [As the verse itself states: “Remember what Amalek did to you (singular)” – the verse is directed at the individual and his own, personal, recollection.] Amalek appears in R’fidim when Yisra’el departs Egypt; he then appears in the era of King Sha’ul in the Gilbo’a; and then again in the period of Mordechai in Shushan. Amalek appears whenever Yisra’el approaches the realization of its national objectives and destiny. [Cf. the shi’ur on Megillat Esther, 5754.]

However it is specifically this recollection of Amalek that is the basis of the happiness, and not solely due to the salvation that the Jews experienced after the impending danger wrought by Amalek, the happiness occurs specifically for it is from that particular danger (of Amalek) that the Jews were liberated.

In order to fully understand these concepts we must understand what exactly “simcha” – “happiness” is; its nature and its substance.

In our parasha, Ki Tavo, we fine a host of mitzvot that are internally associated with simcha. It is interesting that even at the core of the long reproach that appears in our parasha we find the motif of simcha.

For example we fine the “Viduy Ma’asrot” – “The confession of Ma’aser tithes” – which an Israelite must confess:

“I have not eaten of it in my mourning, neither have I taken away any of it for any impure use, nor given any of it for the dead; I have listened to the voice of God my Lord, and I have done according to all that you have commanded me.”

(Devarim 26:14)

“I have not eaten of it in my mourning” indicates that there is a requirement to declare that the Ma’asrot were consumed in a state of simcha.

“I have done according to all that you have commanded me” – Rashi explains this as follows:

“I was happy, and I caused others to rejoice through it (the Ma’asrot.)”

(Rashi, ibid.)

Once again we observe the concept of simcha.

In the continuation of the parasha, when we come across the construction of the altars on Har G’rizim (Mount G’rizim) and Har Eival (Mount Eival,) despite the fact that altars had been built for many years previously by our forefathers, here we find a new motif:

“You shall build the altar of God your Lord of whole stones; and you shall offer burnt offerings on it to God your Lord. And you shall offer peace offerings, and shall eat there, and rejoice before the Lord your God. And you shall write upon the stones all the words of this Torah very clearly.”

(Devarim 27:6-8)

The apex of this appears in the midst of the reproach where it states:

“Because you did not serve not God your Lord with happiness, and with gladness of heart, for the abundance of all things. Therefore you shall serve your enemies which God shall send against you, in hunger, and in thirst, and in nakedness, and with great deficiency; and he (your enemy) shall put a yoke of iron upon your neck, until he has destroyed you.”

(Devarim 28:47-48)

Let us pay careful attention to the literal meaning of these verses. The Torah does not say that all the reproofs will come upon Yisra’el for not serving God, but rather for not having served God “with happiness, and with gladness of heart.” In other words Yisra’el fulfilled mitzvot, however not through simcha.

These words of the Torah are established as Halacha by the Rambam, when he says:

“The happiness one should experience when fulfilling a mitzva as well as the love of God who commanded them (to him) is a great service (of God.)”

(Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Lulav 8:15)

Thus the happiness, the simcha, is not a pleasant, spontaneous, fleeting feeling, but rather “a great service” – something that must be invested with great effort and toil. [This, therefore, leads us to define the concept of “simcha” anew.]

The Rambam continues:

“Whoever restrains himself from this simcha is worthy of retribution, for the verse states: ‘Because you did not serve not God your Lord with happiness, and with gladness of heart.’”

(ibid.)

Therefore, as we stated above, the Rambam incorporates Moshe Rabbenu’s reproach against Am Yisra’el into Halacha. The Rambam then describes the opposite of this concept, “simcha:”

“Whoever holds himself proud, giving himself honor, and behaves haughtily in such situations is a sinner and a fool. Regarding this Sh’lomo warned, stating: ‘Do not glorify yourself before the King,’ (Mishlei 28:10.) (However) whoever lowers himself and thinks lightly of his person in these situations is (truly) a great person, worthy of honor, who serves God out of love. Similarly, David King of Isael declared, ‘I will hold myself even more lightly esteemed than this and be humble in my eyes,’ (Sh’mu’el II 6:22.) For there is no greatness nor honor other than rejoicing before God, as the verse states: ‘And King David was leaping and dancing before God,’ (Sh’mu’el II 6:16.)”

(ibid.)

We see, therefore, that the opposite of simcha is pride and haughtiness. It is the situation where one gives “himself honor and behaves haughtily in such situations.” Thus in a situation when one should rejoice and feel simcha, instead he offers himself honor – and it is such a person that the Rambam states is no more than a sinner, and even worse, a fool.

We have seen, then, the concept of happiness in one’s divine service, having seen its repeated mentions in Sefer D’varim, and here is the correct place to mention the following wondrous idea:

Until Sefer Devarim there is no mention of “simcha” in the Torah. Then, in Sefer D’varim, in the plains of Mo’av, we find the obligation of simcha appearing no less than sixteen times! This is quite astonishing – was there no requirement to be happy and rejoice prior to the encampment in the plains of Mo’av?

This is one more issue that obligates us to further explore the concept of simcha and its influence.

[The sole time that the concept of simcha appears prior to Sefer D’varim is in Parashat Emor, in the context of the Four Species, the verse states: “And you (plural) shall rejoice (“u’smachtem”) before God your Lord,” (Vayikra 23:40) which our Sages expounded to infer that the obligation of taking the Four Species is solely in the location of simcha, i.e. the Temple. Afterwards we find the verse “And you (singular) shall rejoice (“v’samachta”) on your festivals,” (D’varim 16:14) which indicates that despite the fact that the taking of the Four Species occurs in the Temple, the mitzva is to rejoice everywhere.]

Let us return to the start of our shi’ur. We opened with the Mikra Bikkurim declared by an individual who is no doubt a great individual. He personally feels that which occurred to our forefathers, and indeed his feeling of identification is so deep that the author of the Hagada incorporates his words into the Pesach Hagada – from the ‘An Aramean tried to destroy my father,” through the “And the Egyptians dealt ill with us, and they afflicted us.”

However there is more beyond this – the author of the Hagada chose to incorporate this section of the Mikra Bikkurim into the Hagada for it is the most suitable to Pesach.

Let us ask – is the night of Pesach a joyous or gloomy event?

One may certainly claim that is most definitely a joyous night – how could we think otherwise?

If, however, Pesach night is a joyful evening – why, then, do we eat the maror, recalling the bitterness of the slavery? Why do we have the charoset, in commemoration of the mortar, and why the red wine in commemoration of the blood of the children of Yisra’el? [Indeed, according to the Or Zaru’a there is a special requirement for red wine for the four cups of wine on Pesach night in commemoration of the blood of the Jewish children in which Pharaoh would bathe.]

How are we to feel the emotion of simcha on a night saturated with these difficult and depressive recollections?

We must therefore conclude that the concept of simcha is unclear.

What, then, is simcha?

In a certain respect, comprehending true simcha is one and the same with the comprehension of true love.

What is true love? On the one hand, love is the most spiritual entity in the world, there is nothing that man requires more than that which carries him to an infinite connection, the emotion of love

Simultaneously there can be nothing more base and hedonistic in man than love which is misplaced and false.

True love appears with great force and takes man, who feels the greatest stagnation, and raises him to an infinite plane. However love cannot be plutonic, it must materialize in the worldy, material plane; just as the inspiration derived from Divine Presence, which is the loftiest of all entities, must materialize in the material plane.

It is exactly here that we find the dangerous equation. The material world has power and strength. It has the ability to transform the loftiest and most hollowed concepts into material-lustful distortions, shattering the most heavenly concepts with the worst mire reality has to offer.

This reminds us of Amnon and Tamar, (Sh’muel II 13.) Amnon desired Tamar, loving her with an intense love. Tamar, was willing to return his love, only she requested that he wait for her. However, overcome by lust he could not hold himself back in accordance with his love’s request, and thus he rapes Tamar. The verse describes the tragic consequences as follows:

“Then Amnon hated her greatly; such that the hatred with which he hated her was greater than the love with which he had loved her.”

(ibid v. 15)

According to the p’shat (the literal meaning of the verses,) this hatred that Amnon held for Tamar was in fact his own hatred of himself, however the victim chosen to the subject of this anger and hatred was Tamar. The essence of the hatred is terrible internal frustration, and the sentiment that the finite, base, and material had overcome the spiritual and infinite.

Similar to love we find simcha. A person is encompassed by the fear of death, which he considers to be the greatest cessation and stagnation. The modern world offers more and more materialism for to engulf man in order to expel these fears. Ironically, it is specifically the engrossment in material pursuits that amplifies the fear of death to frightening proportions. For the association and connection with the material which itself is limited and ceases to exist envelops he who cleaves to it in that very same feeling of mortality.

When the true pursuit in life is connection to the infinite – this is the true content of happiness.

Simcha is the knowledge that I am infinite and immortal, that I, a human being, am not merely the sum of my organs and limbs, nor am I the sum of the years that I merit on earth. I am far more beyond this.

Simcha, similar to love, is based on the understanding that within the limited finite lies the infinite. The reality imbued with simcha is dependant on the sole certainty that exists in the world, and that is that the finite world is directed by the infinite, and within the finite the infinite lies hidden.

We have already learned from our Sages that “There is no simcha like the resolution of doubts.” Simcha and doubt are diametrically opposed to one another, for as we mentioned previously the basis of simcha is that within uncertainty there exists certainty.

Therefore in the Diaspora where two day of Yom Tov are celebrated as a result of the doubt as to which day is Yom Tov – how can simcha exist? This may very well be the reason for the concept of simcha appearing in various contexts specifically in Sefer D’varim, on the eve of the entry to Eretz Yisra’el.

Another remarkable example is that of the Brit Mila, the circumcision. Outside of Israel the father of the child being circumcised pronounces the blessing:

“To bring him (the child) into the covenant of Avraham our forefather.”

In Eretz Yisra’el the father makes an additional b’racha, that of “She’he’cheyanu” – “Who has give us life.” The minhag for omitting the “She’he’cheyanu” b’racha is explained by the Rema as a result of the pain caused to the male child by the circumcision. Recital of this b’racha – with its motifs of simcha – is incongruent with the child’s pain. Why is the “She’he’cheyanu b’racha pronounced in Eretz Yisra’el – does the child not feel the pain of the circumcision in Eretz Yisra’el?

This is the very point – the Brit Mila is the bonding of the finite with the infinite, a union which only applies in full force in Eretz Yisra’el for the Brit Mila is also brit (covenant) for the land – “to your seed I will give this land,” (B’reshit 12:10.) Therefore, in the location where this connection is expressed, in Eretz Yisra’el, certainly one is to pronounce the She’he’cheyanu blessing, for the baby’s pain is absorbed in the national, collective’s feeling. However outside of Israel, where there is no expression of the fusion of the finite with the infinite – there is no simcha, and therefore we are faced solely with the pain of the young baby. Therefore the Rema establishes:

“In these countries, (i.e. the Diaspora) we do not pronounce the She’he’cheyanu b’racha.”

(Shulchan Aruch, Yore De’ah 365:7)

The Lubavitcher Rebbe raises a beautiful question which will serve as the conclusion to our words. Regarding the person who brings the Bikkurim to the Tenmple, the Rebbe asks: “Why does he only mention the incidents of ‘An Aramean tried to destroy my father’ and Egypt? What about the rest of our history? What about recalling the many other gracious acts of God to His nation?”

Secondly, the Rebbe asks why it is that Rashi did not pose this question.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe bases his answer on the fact that the obligation of the bringing of Bikkurim was only compulsory after the conquest and division of Eretz Yisra’el.

In the words of Rashi:

“‘And it shall be, when you come in to the land… and you shall possess it and settle in it’ – this indicates that they were only obligated to bring Bikkurim once they had conquered and divided the land.”

(Rashi, D’varim 26:1)

The Rebbe says that there were two occasions when we though that we have a location - other than Eretz Yisra’el - suited to our needs – in Aram and in Egypt. But then God took us to our rightful place. The Rebbe explains that this is indeed Rashi’s intention when he comments:

“‘An Aramean tried to destroy my father’ – this recounts the grace of “ha’makom” – “the place.””

(Rashi, D’varim 26:5)

This term, “ha’makom” does not refer to God as is customary, but rather to to a place, and inheritance. We. Yisra’el, have but one location that is ours in the entire world – Eretz Yisra’el. In any other location in the world our enemies attempted to destroy and annihilate us, for only in Eretz Yisra’el can we fuse with the inifinite. Eretz Yisra’el is the land of certaint, and not the land of doubt.

[These are the words of Rebbe:

“‘And you shall respond and say before God your Lord, ‘An Aramean tried to destroy my father, and he went down into Egypt, and sojourned there with a small number (of people), and became there a great, mighty, and populous nation’ – this requires clarification. Why does he only mention these two gracious acts (the salvation from Lavan and the liberation from Egypt,) and he does not mention: Ya’akov’s salvation from Esav; the splitting of the Sea of Reeds; the war with Amalek; the manna; the well [of water in the desert;] etc.?

The explanation is: Bnei Yisra’el were only obligated with (the bringing of) Bikkurim after they conquered and divided the land, (Rashi, the beginning of our parasha.) It is clear, then, that this mitzva is not solely an [act of] thanksgiving for the granting of the land, but also (and primarily) thanksgiving for having reached their inheritance with permanent settlement therein, for only then does [the land] give forth the goodness wherein he rejoices. Therefore he mention only the acts of God’s graciousness that were performed to our forefathers when they were in permanent locations, and in those places they did not receive any good, to the contrary – they stood before complete annihilation. And God saved them and brought them to this place, and He gave them goodness stem from that location itself. Therefore he mentions the salvation from Lavan, (which occurred in Aram) and the liberation from Egypt, for in those places our forefathers dwelled in a permanent fashion – twenty years in Aram, and two-hundred and ten years in Egypt.”]

Let us summarize all we have said thus far.

When one bonds with the infinite this does not mean that there are difficult moments and challenging periods. However specifically the knowledge that one is associated with the infinite and with the reality of the infinite causes the concept of simcha to appear with us particularly through the mist of difficulty and suffering. Simcha exists when we know the process and the so often resulting heartache, and despite this we know that “The Eternal One of Israel will not lie nor renounce…” (Sh’mu’el 15:29.)

Upon reaching Eretz Yisra’el after departing the Diaspora, the lands of uncertainty and darkness, then one may attain a state of simcha. The very red wine which we drink on Seder night, which according to some Rishonim commemorates tha blood of the Jewish children, declares that we are the descendants of those children who were killed, leaving no trace after them.

We, and they, are proof that the kingdom of evil and materialism of Pharaoh and Assyria, of Babylon and Amalek, have vanished and will continue to vanish. We, however, the children and grandchildren continue to exist through the memory of that blood.

Then, when we are happy and filled with simcha, can the simcha surpass al boundaries reaching the “stranger who is among you,” (D’varim 26:11) and all of humanity.

This, then, is simcha. The knowledge of, the faith in, and the experience of the fusion of the infinite within us. In this manner no tremors in life nor history can shatter us, rather we ride the waves of history and rise to the heavens.

Translated by Sholem Hurwitz

Copyright Keren Yishai/Rav M. Elon