Grape Fruit

Most of this week’s Sedra is dedicated to the Meraglim—their journey, their report and ultimately the fallout from their Aveirah. There are many lessons to be learned from this most difficult chapter in our history—one from which we are still suffering. Some are of course to be found in the broader storyline, but there are also nuances in the Pessukim, the way the Torah chose to tell the story, that can help us understand what is to be learned from this Parsha.

At the beginning of the Parsha, Moshe Rabbeinu receives a Tzivuy from Hakadosh Baruch Hu: “Shlach Lecha Anashim V’Yasuru Es Eretz Canaan.” Moshe was to send forth men, who could scout out Eretz Canaan, which Klal Yisroel was poised to enter in just a short amount of time. After listing the names of the twelve men, one from each Shevet, who are identified as leaders among Bnei Yisroel, the Torah tells us about the instructions that Moshe Rabbeinu issued the group.

They were told to examine both the land itself and its inhabitants, providing a list of questions which which they were to try and answer. How did the natives live, in camps or in cities? Were they a strong people or a weak one? Was the land an arable, fertile one? Were there woods or not? All questions that would seem to be appropriate for one who was examining a land for potential inhabitation. Finally, they were told to bring back samples of the Pri Haaretz, the native crops, another useful means of exaluation.

Leaving aside the many questions about why Moshe issued these instructions as such, the final words of this series of Pessukim seem to beg explanation. The Torah concludes: “VeHayamim Yimei Bikurei Anavim”, telling us that it was the season of Bikurei Anavim, which Rashi explains means the time when the grapes were beginning to ripen.

While it is perhaps understandable that the Torah would wish to let us know when the Meraglim set out on their journey, it is interesting to note that the Torah does not mention a day or date, but rather a season—why did the Torah choose to identify the time of year in such general terms?

We may be able to answer this question based on the words of Sforno who explains that as Bikkur is the beginning of the repining season, the fruits would be not yet be fully developed. Moshe Rabbeinu however believed that they would be so flavorful and large even in this early stage that it would be a testament to the Bracha found in Peiros Eretz Yisroel.

It would then be understandable why the Torah chose to tell us about the season during which the Meraglim left, but the placement of this Passuk is still questionable. Why did the Torah tell us about the season here, at the end of Moshe’s instructions? Often when the Torah wishes to tell us when a particular story took place it will do so at the very beginning—in this case at the words would have fit well when we are told about the Tzivuy of Shlach Lecha Anashim. The season also could have been mentioned later, when the Torah tells us about the fruit they actually encountered. Why then does the Pasusk mention the season, the Bikurei Anavim, at this point specifically?

The Kli Yakar here seems somewhat sensitive to this question, and offers an approach to the words “VeHayamim Yimei Bikurei Anavim” based on a Pasusk in Hoshea that compares Bnei Yisroel to Anavim, and a Yalkut Shmoni in Parshas Vayeshev which notes that ripened fruits mean that a determined time has arrvied. The Kli Yakar concludes that by referring to the Bikurei Anavim the Torah means to tell us that the time had come for Bnei Yisoel, the Anavim, to enter Eretz Yisroel.

The Pshat of the Kli Yakat seems to be more positive, noting that the Meraglim were sent at an auspicious time and as such would seem to be more appropriately placed toward the beginning of the Parsha, and not here. As such, perhaps there is a different approach to be taken in explaining these words.

Interestingly, the words “V’Hayamim Yimei” are unique to this Passuk—this terminology is not used elsewhere in the Torah—and they seem to mean that the days were defined by the fact that the Bikurei Anavim was taking place at this time. It was no mere coincidence that the Meraglim were sent on their expedition at the time that the grapes were ripening, rather the time that they were traveling was at its essence the Yimei Bikurei Anavim. Certainly, then, there was something to be learned from this, some way that it affected their journey.

R’ Yonasan Eibshitz, in Yaaros Dvash, speaks at length about the concept of Bikur, the first or most special of any item. He explains that often something that comes first, the initial outcome of one’s labor or efforts, are infused with more Taivah or Gaavah than later products, and as a result the Yetzer Harah has a greater ability to have an impact on that outcome. the way to combat this increased influence of the Yetzer Harah, explains R’ Yonosan, is with additional Kedusha.

The prime example of this concept is a Bechor, a first-born child: because he is the Bikur, the firstborn, he may in some way be the product of more Taivah or less desirable Middos, and so he is made Kadosh so as to counteract the increased ability that the Yetzer Harah has to impact him. Similarly, the first fruits of a new crop are called “Bikkurim”, because they too are the intial results of much work and effort by the farmer, and so they too are subject in some way to increased effects of the Yetzer Harah. Here too Torah provides a Shimur, a protection, in the form of Kedusha, instructing us to take the Bikurim the Bais Hamikdash.

Chizkuni explains the words “VeHayamim Yimei Bikurei Anavim” as being connected to the prior words: “V’Hischazaktem V’Lakachtem M’Pri HaAretz.” During the time of Bikur, explains Chizkuni, there are guards in the field, ensuring no one comes to take the sweet new fruits. Nonetheless, the Meraglim would need to be Mechazek themselves and defy the Shomrim, taking the fruits necessary to fulfil the requirement of “V’Hischazaktem V’Lakachtem M’Pri HaAretz.”

In other words, as the Meraglim travelled through Eretz Yisroel, they not only saw Anavim in a state of Bikur, but the Shomrim that were necessary to guard them as well.

If we think about it, the Meraglim were in an interesting position: they were the first members of Klal Yisroel to venture froth form the cocoon of the Ananei Hakavod and the Machanos. Prior to that point they had been in Galus Mitzrayim or protected by the presistant presence of Hashem that defined the existence of Bnei Yisroel in the Midbar. Now, they found themselves on their own, in a strange land, acting somewhat independently. They were the first of their peers to experience this reality, a distinction they achieved as leaders among their respective Shevatim. As such, they too were Bikurim of sorts—the first of a set—as a result of their own work, and all that comes with that reality. As they reached Eretz Yisroel, they were meant to take stock of their surroundings, to notice that Bikkurim have Shomrim, and realize that they too, as trailblazers, required Shemirah.

It seems that Yehoshua and Kalev indeed took this lesson to heart. Yehoshua had the Shemirah of his Rebbe Moshe, and Kalev went to Chevron to Daven at Kivrei Avos. They realized that they could not survive on their own, but required protections, additional Keduasha and a connection to the Mesorah.

Their peers, however, did not. R’ Yonnason notes that the Meraglim ate the Bikurei Anavim, connecting themselves to the negative characteristics that are inherent in such produce, rather than staying away from them as befits a person concerned with Kedusha. This was their ultimate downfall—a rejection of the nesscity for extra Shemirah that their positions called for.

We can now understand how those Yamim were indeed Yimei Bikurei Anavim. The time period was defined by the Bikur Anavim for the message that these fruits and their attendant Shomrim were to teach them. This being said, we can still wonder why the Bikur at the time was the Anavim specifically. The state of Bikur is not limited to grapes—Shavuos is called the Chag Bikurei Chittim for example—and so there must be a reason that the period of the Meraglim was the Yimei Bikurei Anavim particularly.

The Yalkut Shimoni quoted by the Kli Yakar also has another Pshat in Passuk in Vayeshev, which when discussing the dream of the Saar Hamshkim, speaks about Anavim. There, the Yalkut, which is also brought in the Gemarah in Chulin, says “Anavim Elu Hashevatim”, that grapes represent the Shivtei Kah.

R’ Baruch Mordechai Ezrachi Shlit”a, in Birchas Mordechai, explains the meaning of this Gemarah. Grapes, as fruit can be quite delicious to eat, but their ultimate purpose, their highest use is as wine. This transformation, from a mere fruit to a substance which is used on the Mizbeach itself, comes only through squeezing and pressing. The elevation of the grape is achieved via a process that can be seen as difficult or even destructive, though we know it is ultimately good.

The Shevatim were born to Yaakov Avinu and their DNA was that of the Avos Hakedoshim. They therefore had an element of Kedusha from birth, and were destined for greatness—this was not however their ultimate Tafkid. Each of the Shevatim could achieve Madreigos of their own: they could find a unique approach to Avodas Hashem, a Derech that would elevate themselves and be passed on to their offspring. But this would come only with hard work, with sweat and toil. In this way they are akin to Anavim—their initial state, while itself desirable, could be elevated to greater heights through metaphoric squeezing and pressing.

That was the message of the Anavim that reached Bikur as the Meraglim arrived in Eretz Yisroel. The Meraglim were supposed to note that the grapes in a state of Bikur, the first ones, needed Shemirah, and deduce that they too, by dint of their situation, needed Shemirah as well. Had they heeded that message, they may have been discouraged by the work and difficulty such Shemirah necessitates. That is why the fruit of choice was grapes—to remind them that their hard work would have untold results. Just as grapes undergo a “difficult” process in order to attain their ultimate state, so to their hard work to ensure the Shemirah befitting their stature would yield results in terms of growth and elevation.

There are, as we mentioned, a great many lessons to be learned from the Meraglim, about leadership, Emunah, and even Lashon Harah. Here we find yet another. We are all in a state of Bikur, refered to by Hashem as “Beni Bechori Yisroel.” This means that we require Shemirah—we must take the steps nessecary to protect ourselves form the influence of the Yetzer Harah, and the world that surrounds us. We are all, however, offspring of the Shevtim as well, and as such can be compared to Anavim. Our hard work, in ensuring the Shemriah we require, elevates us and allows us to achieve our ultimate purpose.