Rabbi's Sermons

Shabat Shalom!

This Shabbat’s Parashat Ekev comes to us in the second week of the Sheva de'Nechemata, the seven weeks of consolation that follow the mourning of Tisha B'Av. These weeks draw from the prophecies of Isaiah, offering hope after destruction, reminding us that even in our darkest hours, redemption is promised. Specifically, this second week echoes the cry of Zion in Isaiah 49: "¹⁴ But Zion said: The Lord has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me". It's a sad expression of abandonment, a feeling that resonates deeply today as we are living a world growing with antisemitism and peril. Yet, the haftarah assures us that God has not forgotten; like a mother who cannot forget her child, divine compassion endures, promising restoration and the in-gathering of exiles. In this moment of global turmoil: the ongoing war between Israel and Hamas in Gaza, and the surging avalanche of antisemitism worldwide, this message of consolation is not just ancient text; it is a lifeline.
Parashat Ekev opens on chapter 7 of Deuteronomy with a profound promise: "¹² And it shall come to pass, because (ekev) you hearken to these ordinances, and keep and do them, that the Lord your God shall keep with you the covenant and the mercy which He swore unto your fathers". Moshe recounts the trials of the wilderness—the manna from heaven, the water from the rock, the shattering of the golden calf—to remind the Israelites of God's unwavering care. He urged them not to fear the mighty nations in the Promised Land, for God will drive out the enemies gradually, lest the land become desolate. Obedience brought blessings: fertility, health, victory over enemies. But forgetfulness led to disaster. This is no mere history lesson; it's a blueprint for survival, emphasizing that true security comes not from military might alone, but from fidelity to God's commandments. An intriguing aspect of this Parasha lies in its very name: Ekev. The word is translated as "because" or "as a result", underscoring the cause-and-effect of divine blessings. But ekev in Hebrew also means "heel", and this evokes the vulnerable, lowly part of the body. Our sages in Midrash Tanchuma - Ekev 1, discussed on this double meaning to deliver a powerful teaching. They interpreted the verse as referring to the kind of mitzvot, commandments, that people tend to trample under their heels, the "light ones” deemed insignificant or easy to overlook. The Midrash explains: "Why does it say 'ekev'? This refers to the mitzvot that a person treads upon with his heels". These are not the grand, dramatic observances like Yom Kippur fasting or building a Sukkah, but the everyday acts: a kind word to a stranger, making honest business dealings, or reciting a blessing before eating. The Midrash promises that God rewards even these trampled mitzvot with abundance, for they demonstrate consistent devotion. In a world that glorifies the spectacular, this is revolutionary: greatness emerges from the small, the overlooked, the heel-level faithfulness.

This midrashic insight speaks directly to our current crises. Since October 7^th, 2023, Israel has been locked in a brutal war against Hamas in Gaza, a conflict marked by unimaginable atrocities, rocket barrages, and the heartbreaking loss of life on both sides, though Israel's defensive actions aim to dismantle terror while minimizing civilian harm. Hamas, embedded among innocents, launches attacks from schools and hospitals, prolonging suffering, and Israel is to be blamed! An avalanche of antisemitism sweeps the globe: protests are chanting for Jewish annihilation, vandalism of synagogues, boycotts of Israeli goods, and online image that echoes the darkest chapters of our history, exactly like 100 years ago in Europe.. From university campuses in America to streets in Europe, Jews feel besieged, forsaken, much like Zion's lament in the haftarah. Reports from organizations like the ADL show a 400% spike in antisemitic incidents since the war began, with physical assaults, harassment, and institutional bias on the rise. In this reality, we might ask: “Where is God? Have we been forgotten?” Yet, Parashat Ekev and its midrashic layers urge us not to despair.

The Israelites in the wilderness learned dependence on God through the manna as we read in Deuteronomy 8: "³ He afflicted you and let you hunger, then fed you with manna... to make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of the Lord". In the same way, we must understand it TODAY. The Talmud in volume Yoma 76a, expounds on this verse, teaching that the "mouth of the Lord" refers to words of Torah, which sustain life more than physical bread. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai illustrated it with a parable: “When the Israelites ate manna, they absorbed Torah effortlessly, free from worldly toil. But in our exile, we labor for bread, yet Torah remains our true nourishment”.

In Gaza's tunnels and Israel's Iron Dome defenses, in the face of global hatred, this Talmudic wisdom calls us to spiritual resilience. This war is testing Medinat Israel’s physical survival, but global antisemitism assaults our own soul. Holding fast to Torah, studying, teaching our children Jewish values, feeds us when bread feels scarce. Consider the "heel" mitzvot in this context. In wartime Israel, small acts abound: volunteers are delivering meals to soldiers' families, communities are hosting evacuees from the north and south, or simply wearing a Star of David amid hostility abroad. These are the mitzvot we might trample, easy to dismiss as insignificant amid rocket sirens or protest mobs. The Midrash assures us they invoke a divine protection. History bears witness: During the 1948 War of Independence, or the miraculous victories of 1967 and 1973, it was not just strategy but faith-fueled unity that prevailed. Today, as Hamas hides behind civilians and Iran proxies escalate, Israel's ethical warfare like warning leaflets, or precision strikes, reflect heel-level mitzvot like pikuach nefesh, preserving life.

Against antisemitism, our response is education: sharing Holocaust testimonies, countering misinformation on social media, fostering interfaith dialogues. These small steps, trampled under the heel of daily life, accumulate to blessings, as Ekev promises. The haftarah reminds us this hope as written on Isaiah 49: "¹⁵ Can a woman forget her child...? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you". God vows to rebuild Jerusalem, confound enemies, and bring children home. In this second week of Sheva de'Nechemata, this addresses our deepest fear: emptiness. But consolation follows as Isaiah says Ch.49: "¹⁸ Lift up your eyes around and see: They all gather together, they come to you". For Israel today, this means Beezrat HaEl, the war will end, we will see Hamas defeated, the hostages will be returned, and peace shall be secured. Globally, antisemitism's tide will turn as truth prevails, with allies standing firm. We've seen international coalitions against terror, Jewish pride surging in response to hate.

Parashat Ekev challenges us: Do not fear the giants in the land, for God fights with you. In Gaza's shadows of war and the world's cold responses, do embrace the heel mitzvot! Light a Shabbat candle with extra intention; extend Hesed (kindness) to a neighbor; delve into study. These sustain us, as we remember "not by bread alone". The Sheva de'Nechemata reminds us that after lamentation comes joy, and Rosh Hashanah awaits. May we merit the ultimate consolation: peace in Israel, an end to hatred, and Messianic times arrival. As prophet Isaiah concluded on chapter 49: "¹³ For the Lord has comforted His people, and will have compassion upon His afflicted" – and let us say: Amen.

Shabat Shalom!

Rabbi David Laor

August 15^th, 2025