October 22, 2006

First Fruits for the Lord
Deuteronomy 26:1-15; Proverbs 3:9

An international student at Messiah motioned for me to go ahead of her a few days ago as we joined the others in our group at the lunch line. “In my culture,” she said, “the elders are always served first.” I knew from experience that that was in fact the case in various parts of the world—I’ve been served in Bedouin tents and eaten in African huts—but the respect in her voice was particularly touching in this case. This young woman wanted me to have the first pick from the buffet.

We did not necessarily enforce that same guideline in the Brensinger household when I was growing up, but we certainly had our own renditions of it. I think, for instance, of my mother’s homemade cinnamon buns. She always made them the old-fashioned way—fresh flour, yeast, potato water, butter and brown sugar, all kneaded together and left to rise for several hours in a large, metal pot on a stool by the radiator. How does one begin to describe what those buns smelled like, let alone tasted like? I well recall waiting for the better part of a day on many occasions for my mom to remove the goods from the oven and set us free to enjoy them.

There was an unwritten rule in our family, however. Dad, I am quite certain, did not think up the rule himself—he thought far more about the rest of us than he ever did of himself—and he never would have enforced it. But the rule was clear in our minds nonetheless. The center bun, the one without any exterior edges touching the pan, belonged to my father. The rule was so clear, in fact, that on one occasion when a guest at our dinner table innocently reached for that center bun, my older brother announced without hesitation, “That is my Daddy’s bun.” Quickly, as my father looked on with obvious embarrassment, the woman put it back in place. In the Brensinger household, my father got the pick of the batch. He had first dibs on the center bun.

There is no archaeological evidence, of course, that the Israelites ever baked cinnamon buns, but it is more than clear that a similar “first dibs” idea was deeply embedded in their corporate psyche. While the elders among them were typically treated with respect and dignity, they ultimately projected this “first dibs” idea on an even higher party—God himself. The Israelites, according to Deuteronomy 26 and other related passages, were instructed to bring to God the “first” or “best” fruits of their labors. Whether raw produce—grain, olives, figs, grapes, oil, honey or even wool—or processed products—bread, jam or wine, the Lord received the center portion of everything that these farmers and shepherds had.

Our text in Deuteronomy 26, however, goes into very few logistical details concerning these offerings. Of far greater importance to the writer than the “how to’s” of this “First Fruits” principle is the expression of faith that lies behind it. What is the meaning of bringing one’s first fruits to the Lord, and what is suggested by presenting such an offering? These “heart matters” are what concern the writer, as even a quick reading of the passage makes clear.

According to this passage, the Israelites were to repeat three specific confessions when they offered their first fruits and tithes to the Lord (vv. 3, 5-10, and 13-14). These confessions form a type of liturgy that brings to a close the central section (chs. 12-26) of the book of Deuteronomy itself. In the previous section (chs. 5-11), the ten words or Ten Commandments appear again in much the same form that we see them in Exodus 20. Now, the writer provides explanations or illustrations of what life would look like within a community that takes the ten words or Ten Commandments seriously. That this lengthy section ends with a depiction of the First Fruits and tithe suggests just how important these offerings were.

In the opening and shortest confession, we learn that the Israelites brought their first fruits for God’s sake. After presenting a basket of first fruits to the priest at the temple, they repeated these words: “Today I declare to the Lord your God that I have come into the land that the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.” This is, in effect, a personal testimony. As each person, one by one, presented his first fruits, he affirmed that God had made good on a promise that God had made years and even centuries before to his ancestors. “God has blessed me with this land,” the presenter announces, “just like he promised.”

On many occasions, whether in counseling sessions or other contexts, I hear a frustrated husband or wife say something like this: “I wish my spouse paid more attention to me. I wish my spouse expressed a sense of gratitude to me more frequently. I wish my spouse acknowledged the things that I do, and demonstrated in some tangible way a deeper level of appreciation.” Spouses sometimes feel neglected, unappreciated, or even taken for granted. Is it possible that God might feel that way at times, too, or have our overly philosophical and mechanical conceptions of him blinded us to his more affectionate side? In presenting the first fruits of their labor, people express their appreciation to God. They speak directly to him—“Today I declare to the Lord”—assuring him that they have noticed everything that he has done and continues to do. Bringing one’s first fruits to the Lord is like sending flowers or chocolates to a spouse. It is like sending a thank you note to a friend. It is a way of saying, “You have been good to me, and I love you.” The Israelites brought their first fruits to the Lord, first and foremost, for his sake.

The second confession, somewhat longer in length, indicates that the people brought their first fruits to the Lord for their own sake. When the priest placed the presenter’s basket of first fruits in front of the altar, the person recited what was in fact an early creed, like the Apostles’ Creed—a succinct but moving summation of the key elements of Israel’s history. In this second confession are allusions to Jacob’s wandering down to Egypt, Israel’s enslavement there at the hands of their Egyptian taskmasters, God’s marvelous acts of deliverance in the exodus, and the eventual gift of the land that the community now inhabits. The confession includes the kinds of reflections found when reunited families reminisce around the dinner table: stories of grandfathers and grandmothers coming from here and traveling to there; stories of enthralling journeys, nerve-wracking risks, and more-than-hoped-for outcomes. And as we read along through these stories, we discover here a noticeable shift that is reflected even in the grammar of the passage. Scholars have long been puzzled by the nearly endless interchange of 2nd person pronouns in Deuteronomy, pronouns that shift between the singular and plural. In one breath the speaker says, “I” or “me,” and in the next he shifts quite spontaneously to “we” or “us.” It is as though he is both an individual and a corporate representative simultaneously, and the words of personal testimony explode into a communal song.

In this second confession, the presenter is caught up in the realization that he is a part of something dramatically greater than himself. Rather than being an isolated or homeless individual groping through the world without family and connections—the great fear of so many lonely people in our world today—he is a member of a welcoming and redeemed community stretching back to the dawn of time. He is a member—a genuine member—of God’s people. And with this realization comes a deepening awareness on several fronts:
1. The first fruits offering, like the Ten Commandments, is rooted in grace, not law. In presenting their first fruits, the Israelites did not earn God’s grace and favor, any more than they earned his deliverance from Egypt by keeping the other commandments. Presenting their first fruits reminded them that they could let go of their tendencies to try to earn God’s acceptance.
2. Because God provides for them, they could begin as well to let go of their possessions and wealth—their first fruits—and actually trust him. Reciting these stories assured them that they could step out and give, even when their resources were limited and their futures in doubt. And in learning to give generously, they likewise discovered that the first fruits offering was a God-given safeguard—a spiritual discipline—to help them observe many of the Ten Commandments. Do not have other gods before me—give your first fruits back to me. Do not steal—give rather than take. Do not covet—share what you have rather than longing for what others have.
3. Because they were a part of a community that spreads across time and space, they were not alone in presenting their offerings. As the average Israelite presented the first fruits of his labors to the Lord, he recognized that many before him and many around him did and continued to do the same thing. God has delivered, not only him, but an entire people of whom he is a part, and he is now taking his place among the many other freed actors on the divine stage. He brings his first fruits, just like Abraham, Isaac and Jacob did. He shares his tithe, just like God’s people throughout the centuries have done. In bringing his first fruits to the Lord, the presenter does his part—takes his place—within the life of the community. He acknowledges what is vital for all of us even today to learn—you simply cannot think about the individual outside of a communal context, and you cannot think of a community apart from the individuals who comprise it. When the Israelites presented their first fruits, they did so for their own sake.

The third and final expression of faith arises in an admittedly different context, although the writer weaves them together to form this complete liturgy. Rather than first fruits, we now read about a tithe—the so-called “poor” tithe—brought before the Lord on a periodic basis. In this case, the offering is brought for the sake of others—to assist other people in and around the community. A casual glance at the list of benefactors reveals that all of them share one obvious thing in common: Levites, aliens, orphans and widows lack in and of themselves a direct connection to the benefits of the land. They are themselves landless, in other words, and are therefore at considerable risk. Insofar as the Lord cares deeply about everyone, demonstrating particular concern for those who might fall through the cracks, the tithe serves as a channel through which the haves in the community share with the have nots. Bringing the tithe enabled the community to reach out to those who had no direct ties to the land. Bringing the tithe enabled the community to pass on God’s blessing. The people brought this tithe for the sake of others.

It is interesting, indeed instructive, to note that the expression of faith accompanying the presentation of the tithe takes both a positive and negative form. Expressed positively, the presenter announces that he has done what the Lord has asked of him. “I have removed the sacred portion from the house, and I have given it….” Stated negatively, the presenter declares that he has not violated God’s instructions in any way. “I have neither transgressed nor forgotten any of your commandments;…” The effect, then, is to balance the gratitude expressed in the opening two expressions of faith with this clear expression of obedience. Presenting one’s first fruits and tithes involves both gratitude and obedience. The Israelites were instructed to bring their first fruits and tithes with thankful and generous hearts, as the first two confessions make clear, but they were, nevertheless, expected to do it. This third and final confession underlines the fact that giving generously is a God-given responsibility.

And so, the people of Israel, freed from Egypt and blessed with a God-given homeland, brought their first fruits and tithes. For God’s sake. For their own sake. And for the sake of others. In the New Testament, the principles of first fruits giving and tithing go largely unmentioned. One might conclude, quite incorrectly, that this silence indicates a doing away with these important practices. Would we conclude the same thing with respect to the ten words or Ten Commandments themselves? If anything, the New Testament begins with Old Testament principles and expands and develops them. The widow who gave her last two copper coins is exalted as a model to be emulated. She gave not only her first fruit, but all of her fruit. And the Apostle Paul, writing in 2 Corinthians 9:6-15, instructs followers of Jesus to “…give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” This word “cheerful,” by the way, comes from the same root from which we get our word “hilarious.” “Give hilariously!” Give “bountifully—not just what is minimally required—knowing that the same God who has brought you to life will continue to take care of you.”

And for us today, the same reasons for which the Israelites brought their first fruits and tithe can serve us well. We are called to present our first fruits and tithes to the Lord for his sake—to express to him our deep appreciation for all that he has done in our lives. We are called to present our first fruits and tithes for our own sake—to free us to live grace-filled and generous lives. And we are called to present our first fruits and tithes to the Lord for the sake of others—our giving enables the church to pass on the blessing to others among us and around us. When we present our first fruits and tithe, we offer thanks and express our obedience. When we present our first fruits and tithes, we honor God with the center bun.