The third chapter of Mishnah Bikkurim preserves, in present-tense detail, one of the most vivid scenes in rabbinic literature: how the first fruits went up. The men of the district gather overnight in the regional town, sleeping in the open square without entering the houses, for purity's sake. At dawn the appointed officer cries, Arise, let us go up to Zion, to the house of the Lord our God. Those near Jerusalem bring fresh figs and grapes; the distant bring dried figs and raisins. An ox walks before them, its horns overlaid with gold, an olive crown on its head; the flute plays before them until they near the city. Word is sent ahead; the governors and treasurers of the Temple come out to meet them, and, the Mishnah specifies, all the craftsmen of Jerusalem stand before them and greet them: Brethren of such-and-such a place, you are welcome, an honor the sages noted craftsmen were not obliged to pay even to scholars.
At the Temple mount even King Agrippa, the text says, takes his basket on his own shoulder, for rank lapses where gratitude is being performed. The Levites sing; the pigeons tied to the baskets are offered; the declaration is recited, and the rich in baskets of silver and gold, the poor in peeled willow baskets, hand over alike, the poor man's basket, the rabbis observe, given to the priest along with its fruit. The chapter is liturgy remembered as pageantry, and it preserved, after the Temple's fall, exactly what a legal code cannot: the joy the commandment was performed with.