As Israel settled safely within the Promised Land, God called them to a beautiful act of remembrance and thanksgiving. Bringing their firstfruits—a basket filled with the harvest’s earliest and finest produce—was not simply a commandment about giving, it was meant to stir memory. In the presence of a priest, each Israelite recounted their history, acknowledging the humble beginnings of their people with the ancient words:
“My father was a wandering Aramean, and he went down into Egypt with a few people…” (Deuteronomy 26:5, New International Version)
This declaration, a concise retelling of God’s redemptive work for Israel, reminded them of two powerful truths: their blessings were rooted entirely in God’s gracious mercy, and their identity hinged upon divine deliverance rather than their own strength or merit.
It’s important here, especially for a Western audience, to understand the ancient Near Eastern context of agriculture. Offering “firstfruits” indicated significant faith. Imagine the uncertainty of believing your first crop would not be your last! This act of worship was a tangible statement of trust in God’s continual provision, something we may miss in our own grocery-store lifestyles.
Theologically, the event emphasizes thanksgiving as grounded in
remembering what God has done. Gratitude, biblically, is woven closely
into historical memory (Psalm 136). Paul echoes this connection in the
New Testament:
“Always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name
of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Ephesians 5:20, New International
Version).
Indeed, deeper biblical theology reveals Christ Himself as our true “Firstfruits” (1 Corinthians 15:20–23), pointing to His resurrection as the foundation of our hope and gratitude.
The next section of chapter 26 invites careful reflection on God’s heart for communal justice. Every third year, Israelites set aside a dedicated tithe intended to support vulnerable groups: Levites, foreigners, orphans, and widows. Notice especially the heart of compassion underlying this law. In agricultural societies, those without land are dependent, vulnerable. God’s provision here is both practical and theological: the people’s obedience reflects His own compassionate nature.
This custom helps us remember that genuine spirituality always extends beyond private devotion to social responsibility. John Calvin famously noted that the Lord’s bounty is given not just for our benefit but for sharing out of love and justice. In our Western individualistic thinking, we can overlook that true devotion and holiness always have practical expressions. How intentionally embedded God’s compassion was in Israel’s communal fabric!
Finally, the chapter culminates in a powerful re-commitment to the covenant relationship. Israel declares that the Lord is their God and vows obedience to His commands. God’s response? To call Israel His “treasured possession” (segullah, סְגֻלָּה) and to elevate them above other nations in holiness and blessing. The Hebrew word segullah appears elsewhere (e.g., Exodus 19:5), describing something of great personal value, set apart for special devotion and care.
Yet this covenant relationship is neither casual nor shallow: it involves mutual agreement and solemn commitment. God calls us likewise—from superficial spirituality into meaningful covenant obedience. Peter reflects on this same theme, applying it to the church, God’s new Israel in Christ:
“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession…” (1 Peter 2:9, New International Version)
We are thus reminded that for believers today, sincere gratitude ought to result in devoted commitment and thoughtful obedience in every area of life.
It is worth noting that reciting one’s history aloud in worship was common practice in ancient Near Eastern societies. Israelites, uniquely, narrated a historical drama not about human kings or conquerors, but God’s mighty acts of deliverance. Archaeologically and historically, this sets them apart: their identity derives from the gracious saving acts of Yahweh, not battles glorifying human heroes.
Further, the ritual mentioned here has plausible archaeological backing. Archaeologists have found evidence of shrines, altars, and harvest practices in surrounding cultures, providing supporting context for Israelite rituals described here.
A reflective modern song captures the essence of gratitude and covenant remembrance wonderfully:
“My Heart Is Filled with Thankfulness” (by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend):
“My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who bore my pain;
Who plumbed the depths of my disgrace
And gave me life again.”
This hymn beautifully expresses remembering God’s provision of salvation, and from that place of deep gratitude naturally arises a commitment to follow Him.
Heavenly Father, you who brought your people out of bondage and into freedom, we glorify you for every grace you have lavished upon us. Grant that we would never forget your kindness, nor neglect the vulnerable among us. Teach us to offer our first, our best, to You in joyful trust. Deepen our commitment as your precious possession, set apart for obedience and love. In Christ, our firstfruit and our greatest treasure, we pray. Amen.
Narrated version of this devotional on Deuteronomy Chapter 26