You shall take of the first of every fruit…and go to the place that Hashem your G-d will choose…and you shall say to him [the Kohen], “I declare today to Hashem your G-d that I have come to the Land that Hashem swore to our forefathers.”[2]
What you are telling the Kohen, says Rashi, is in essence that you are not an ingrate. You own up to the debt of gratitude that you owe Hashem, The “declaration,” says Ramban, is accomplished simply by showing up with the bikurim/first fruits. But if that is so, then why is the accompanying speech even necessary? The very act of bringing the bikurim says all that needs to be said!
The operating principle here is that there are three realms of mitzvos. Some are performed in deed. Others are internal – performed by the heart and mind. Still others are performed through speech. No realm should be considered as most or least important. They are all equally necessary. Ramban at the end of parshas Bo sees a common theme running through many mitzvos: acknowledging the existence of G-d, and His role as our Creator. He then adds, “Our intention in raising our voices in prayer, and in having our synagogues, and the merit of communal prayer, is that people should have a place where they gather and thank Hashem for creating them…This is what Chazal meant when they said… that tefillah requires audible speech. The obligation of expressing gratitude cannot be satisfied by a person’s recognition and appreciation. It must be clearly enunciated.
The mitzvah of hakoras hatov has an active component – the act of bringing bikurim satisfies that demand. It is insufficient, however, to discharge one’s full responsibility. The Torah requires an oral component as well. A person must give voice to his sentiments of gratitude. This cannot be done by some formulaic recitation of unfelt words.
Contemporary practice seems to support this. Common etiquette requires that people be verbose and effusive in conveying their thanks for all favors received. This is a good thing. But every good thing, when not properly executed, loses its essential meaning. Moreover, it can even lead to bad things – as in this case, where it inspires words of falsehood and flattery.
Some bnei Torah have a hard time verbalizing expressions of thanks. They rationalize that too many people have cheapened the practice by padding their thanks with excessive words and with falsehoods. They tell themselves that they want no part of this custom, and move to the other extreme. It’s the thought that counts, they tell themselves; they will not participate in the empty ceremony practiced by others. They truly feel gratitude, and stand fully prepared to reciprocate. Why should it be necessary to share the feeling?
Our parshah is their rebuke. We see here that part of the mitzvah of gratitude is verbalizing it – in full detail, and with the volume up.
I therefore criticize those bnei Torah who do not express their gratitude to people who have benefitted them. They have no license to free themselves from this responsibility. To the contrary. Whoever says more is praiseworthy. Should their friend do them a favor, they should immediately respond verbally: “I thank you, and I will always remember your kindness.” One who is lackadaisical about this obligation ought to greatly fear that because of this, he will fail entirely in his hakoras hatov obligations, including the areas of thought and action.