But there is an additional facet to this chapter and its recital that connects it to Pesach.

The prophet urges the people to place their faith in G-d and not squander their wealth by withholding the various obligatory tithes. G-d challenges the people to test Him by generously giving the tithes and observe how He will enrich them. The conveying of this charge to distribute the tithes accordingly, specifically on this Shabbos before Pesach, coincides with the command incumbent on every Jew to declare on the eve of Pesach, during the fourth and seventh year of the Shemittah cycle, that they have properly fulfilled all their agricultural obligations of the previous three years, both regarding its distribution to the appropriate recipients and in the adherence to treating the tithes with their proper sanctity and regulations. This is known as Vidui Maaser, Confession of Tithes.

So it would seem that these two ideas, the heralding of the redemption, and the concept of fiscal responsibility in our tithes on the eve of Pesach, are coincidental and unrelated.

Why indeed does the Torah call for the obligation to ‘confess the tithes’ specifically on the eve of Pesach?

On the eve of Pesach there is an additional universal Jewish custom, the fast of the firstborns. We commemorate on the night of Pesach how G-d distinguished between the Egyptian and Jewish firstborns, allowing our firstborns to survive. But why do we fast, wouldn’t it make more sense to celebrate with a feast in joy over our being saved?

The Pri Megadim in explaining the custom many have to eat an egg on the night of Pesach directs us to a fascinating work, Yad Yosef, authored by a 17th century rabbinic scholar, Rav Yosef HaTzarfati, who connects it to the death of Avraham Avinu on the eve of Pesach. The egg which has ‘no mouth’ is a symbol of mourning since mourners have lost the ability to talk as they are overwhelmed by grief.

The Yad Yosef goes on to allege that the bread that accompanied the lentil stew that Yaakov fed to the impulsive Esav was actually Matzah, as the Patriarchs observed Pesach, and in Esav’s haste to eat it immediately rather than wait to consume it after nightfall on the night of Pesach, Esav violated the prohibition to eat Matzah on the eve of Pesach. He claims further that when the Midrash lists the first of the five sins Esav committed on the day he sold his birthright, with Esav violating a betrothed maiden, it refers to this impetuousness of eating Matzah before its appropriate time, which the Jerusalem Talmud equates with the recklessness of a groom who consummates his union with his bride after betrothal but before having stood under the canopy of Nisuin, full marriage.

Esav’s disgracing the birthright of the firstborn by exchanging it for some red porridge and bread, was his ultimate undoing in losing his hoped for blessing from his father Yitzchok before his death. After Yitzchok discovers the deception he fears that perhaps he inappropriately blessed Yaakov, but when Esav cries out that he was ‘outwitted’ twice and Yitzchok finds out about Esav having sold the birthright years earlier for a measly stew, he is placated that indeed he gave the blessing to the worthy one.

In essence it turns out that it was on that fateful afternoon, the eve of Pesach, that the stature of the ‘firstborn’ returned to its proper place, Yaakov and his future progeny.

Perhaps this gives new meaning to the fast of the firstborn, particularly on the eve of Pesach. It was due to Esav’s flawed character who couldn’t control his ravenous instincts that doomed him. In contrast it is our willingness to fast if need be, that expresses our greatest trait, that of self-control. After all, it is that ability to ‘choose’ to contain our urges, that equates us with G-d in that great appellation that distinguishes us from animals, that we are ‘free-willed’ beings. 

The ancient Egyptians venerated the stature of the firstborn. But they viewed it as a status of privilege rather than a treasured responsibility. It is G-d’s declaration that B’ni Bechori Yisroel, the children of Israel are My firstborn, that asserts the stark contrast between the indulgent firstborn Egyptians and His dedicated son, the Jewish nation, who see their role as one of selfless devotion and dutiful responsibility. It is in this light that we recall that providential moment when Yaakov retrieved the true glory of the bechorah, the right of the firstborn, and all that it represents.

Although as a result of the sin of the Golden Calf  the holy duties of the firstborn were transferred to the members of tribe of Levi who refrained from worshipping the Golden Calf, we are taught that it will one day return to the firstborn within each household. The Seforno interprets the very first words in the Vidui Maasros, Confession of Tithes, when we recite Biarti HaKodesh min HaBayis, which literally refers to our declaring that we have ‘removed’ the produce from our ‘homes’ and have distributed them to the appropriate destinations, in a most novel fashion. He asserts that we are really ‘confessing’ our guilt in having sinned at the Golden Calf which caused the resulting ‘removal’ of the firstborn from our ‘homes’! We bemoan our misfortune in  no longer being worthy in having a ‘servant of G-d’ within each of our homes, enlightening it with sanctity and divine service.

It is then no coincidence that this declaration is made as well in preparation of Pesach on its eve? It is our reassertion of that same determination of our illustrious ancestor Yaakov to preserve the grandeur of this special responsibility that defines us as the true Bechor, firstborn, extracted from Egypt on that fateful night when all firstborn Egyptians were decimated to allow the true Bechor, the Jewish nation to assume its noble station.

The Talmud reports that on the day Avraham departed this world Esav committed five sins. In addition to our previous quoted sin of violating a betrothed maiden, he murdered, rejected a main tenet of faith in G-d, he denied the notion of the Revival of the Dead, and disgraced the birthright.

The Yad Yosef goes on to explain in  similar fashion the other sins as well.

The murder refers to the premature death of Avraham that was due to Esav’s callous sinning that G-d wanted to spare Avraham from experiencing in his lifetime. Esav’s self-absorption prevented him from being sensitive to his grandfather’s feelings.

The tenet he rejected, the Yad Yosef suggests, was that which the great Rabbi Akiva asserted was the Klall Gadol B’Torah, a ‘great rule of Torah’, to love one’s fellow man. Esav who was capable of being so insensitive to his own grandfather’s honor on the day of his death was clearly one who would trample anyone who would interfere with his selfish desires.

Esav’s inability to hold on to the birthright was evidence that he lived by the notion that this physical life is all that exists, for if he pondered existence beyond this limited realm and the yearning to be attached to eternity, he never could have allowed himself to forfeit that which would have brought all his progeny benefits for eternity. He thus denied a belief in any revival of the dead, a meaningful existence beyond our limited scope. Finally with no sensitivity or empathy for others, a life bereft of eternal values, he perceived himself as merely an insect in the framework of eternity unworthy of any meaning or purpose, just a beast of survival, the ultimate disgrace of elevated worthiness that every free-willed human can possess.

And it all began with a unshackled impulsiveness to quell his hunger at all costs. From that flaw he eventually lost any semblance of dignity and nobility.

In a fascinating parallel, in the Confession of Tithes there  are five counter declarations.

The declarer maintains “I have not transgressed any of your commandments”, which alludes to one attending to the details to separate from within the same species, same quality, and stage of processing; being both detached. This contrasts with Esav’s first sin of impulsivity. The ‘confessor’ attests to his mindfulness in attending to the details not allowing his hunger to compel him to haphazardly separate the tithe without concern for its requirements.

The second expression is “I have not forgotten”. One who only thinks of the pangs of hunger in one’s belly is liable to ‘forget’ to tithe or to make the appropriate blessing. The confessor declares in confidence he hasn’t sunk to the blind apathy of an Esav that can even be oblivious to a beloved grandfather’s demise, and has remained conscientious of his duties. 

Thirdly he states “I have not eaten of it in my intense mourning”. When partaking of Maaser Sheini, the eating of the second tithing that must be consumed in the holy city of Jerusalem, the Torah prohibits one from partaking of it while he is in a state of aninus, the day of one’s relative’s death. The requirement to eat this tithe in Jerusalem was so that the bringer would be enthused and inspired by the holiness of its inhabitants, those who serve daily in the Temple. The Torah prohibited to eat it while in intense grief lest one lose focus on his goal. One who adheres carefully to this principle is one who fathoms his need to be mindful of others and not lose awareness when preoccupied with one’s self. One who is sensitive to this reality is guaranteed never to trample on others when preoccupied by personal needs. This is the antidote to Esav’s selfish ignoring of other’s needs when busy with himself.

He continues, “I did not consume it in a state of contamination”.  Tumah, ritual impurity, are all rooted in decay, a process of ‘death’ that contaminated the world since the sin of Adam and Chava. Whether it is the contamination generating from a dead human, animal and rodent, or the impurity stemming from leprosy, menstruation and venereal ‘halachic’ diseases, they are all rooted in death. Mortality often leads one to become morose, depressed and hopeless. The Torah prohibits the consumption of Masser Sheini while in a state of impurity to maintain the purity of our awareness of the poisonous notion that can develop with a preoccupation with mortality. It is only because we focus on the notion of an eternal future that is embodied most emphatically in the belief of the revival of the dead, that we defeat these dangerous emotions. This negates entirely Esav’s despondency on the finiteness and futility of life.

Finally, “I did not give of it for the needs of the dead”. The Torah disallows the use of Maaser Sheini funds to provide for the needs of the deceased, such as shrouds and coffins. Certainly we respect the dead, but the Torah sought to enthuse us on the value of ‘life’ and its invaluable worth by restricting tithe funds to the celebration of life itself. In the world of Esav life and death are equal inevitable realities, with one’s fate merely a product of a random role of the dice, with no essential difference between living and deceased ‘corpses’.

We experience the Seder each year reiterating these very same principles.

We begin with the command to retell the story of redemption, beginning with our Patriarchs, their challenges and goals, putting our lives in proper perspective and realizing we live lives of purpose not indulgence.

We then speak of the Pesach, the sacrificial Paschal lamb, we brought to distinguish us from the Egyptians, with a heightened sense of awareness on the impact our actions have on others.

Next we mention the Matzah, which is called Lechem Oni, the poor man’s bread. Simple without any additives or false ‘airs’, it represents our sloughing off any sense of entitlement or accruing of wealth. This reminds us that it is our values and commitment to others that define us. One who lives with that in mind will never allow oneself to simply indulge for gratification sake alone at the expense of others.

Maror, is the bitter herb that conjures the difficulties and frustrations of life that often cause us to lose our verve and to become cynical about life and its purpose. Our willingness to imbibe this bitter pill is our greatest expression of loyalty despite the gloom. We will never be defeated by the forces of despair.

Lastly, we pronounce, “everyone must view it as if they went out of Egypt on this very night”.

We claim how we each stand-alone before G-d, each one of us the objective of the exodus. We are each valued, have a unique goal to accomplish and are assured we will survive for eternity. This gives us the encouragement to be confident in our unique roles.

Pesach is the holiday where we reclaim our birthright. It is a day on which we must emulate the altruistic values of Yaakov in defiance of the entitlement hungry Esav. We must retake our role as the firstborn of G-d.

If we succeed we are assured the final redemption will come.

It is no coincidence. Precisely because Eliyahu promises to herald the redemption we must proverbially fulfill the obligation of Confessing the Tithes, pronouncing with confidence that we are ready to live up to that cherished role as His beloved firstborn.

באהבה,

צבי טייכמאן