Parashat Eikev

August 15, 2025
21 Av 5785
Parashat Eikev
Deuteronomy 7:12 – 11:28

Dear Friends,

Spending a brief part of my day in a workshop with my rabbinic colleagues, we were tasked with writing about an experience in nature. But the prompts asked us to go beyond what we had simply seen—to go deeper, to hear our own voices in response to the experience. It wasn’t easy.

In this Torah portion, Moses is addressing the people as they are finally preparing to enter the land, without him. And like any good parent readying a child for a new experience they won’t share, he is giving the people the best advice he can. We may not always resonate with the way he frames his words, but more than anything, he wants the people not to squander this opportunity. Moses reminds them that their choices have consequences, urging them to stay aware, reminding them not to take what they have for granted.

In reading Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l’s commentary on this Torah portion, Eikev (“and if”), Deuteronomy 7:12–11:28, I came across the following observation. He pointed out the difference between the way we talk about experiencing and knowing things in English and the way the Torah does the same. English uses the metaphor of sight, while the Torah emphasizes listening and hearing. We speak of perception, insight, hindsight, foresight, vision, and imagination. The assignment we were given today pushed us to use both.

The word Sh’ma, in all of its forms, runs throughout our Biblical text. Both the senses of vision and hearing matter, but if we think about the process of sight, we tend to take in what we see more quickly. Listening attentively—really hearing what another is saying—takes far more effort and concentration. In conversation, it requires focus to listen to the other person rather than already thinking about what we want to say next.

We are at the point in our story where Moses wants us to understand that everything we have been given thus far has been an incredible gift, not to be taken for granted. The way he communicates this is through language, urging us, like our ancestors, to pay attention and truly listen.

Rabbi Sacks z”l wrote, “When we speak, we tell others who and what we are… When we listen, we allow others to tell us who they are.” Unlike other animals, who also see and hear, humans have the additional gift of language. If we cannot hear and listen to one another, how can we possibly take in the Divine, who is so much more than each of us?

The workshop I attended required participants to make themselves vulnerable to one another—to really hear each other and take in the varied journeys being shared. Truly listening to one another requires vulnerability; it takes courage. And yet, as this Torah portion reminds us, there is no greater gift we can give one another.

Rabbi Linda Shriner-Cahn