In Parashat Ekev, we find ourselves deep in the book of Deuteronomy, where Moses is speaking from the heart to the Israelites, preparing them for life beyond the wilderness. This portion continues his final address, filled with love, memory, and spiritual guidance. But beneath the surface of ancient law and historical recollection lies a message that is surprisingly modern—and deeply spiritual.

One of the first verses of the portion sets the tone:

“And it shall come to pass, if you listen to these rules and observe them carefully, then God will keep the covenant and the kindness promised to your ancestors…”

The Hebrew word “Ekev” literally means “because” or “as a result of,” but it’s also related to the word “akev”, meaning “heel.” The sages point out this subtle play on words. The Torah isn’t just referring to the big, dramatic commandments—it’s speaking of those we might metaphorically “step on with our heel,” the small, mundane, easily forgotten acts of goodness and mindfulness.

For many people, the idea of religion or spirituality often conjures images of lofty rituals, intense observance, or dramatic moments of divine inspiration. But Parashat Ekev quietly reminds us of a different kind of holiness: the spirituality of consistency. The holiness of the everyday.

Moses doesn’t speak here of grand visions or fiery miracles. Instead, he talks about remembering to bless after eating, treating the land and others with respect, and keeping faith in times of abundance—not just hardship.

This is a different kind of spiritual path. One that doesn’t require you to change your life overnight, but invites you to pay attention. To recognize that small acts—gratitude, humility, patience, care—have a cumulative sacredness. They build the world, one step at a time.

One of the most famous verses in Ekev is:

“And you shall eat, and be satisfied, and bless.”

This is the origin of the Jewish practice of Birkat HaMazon, or blessing after meals. It’s a striking idea: not just to pray when we’re hungry or desperate, but to remember the Source when we’re full. When life is good. When there’s food on the table, and we could easily forget.

How often do we connect to gratitude when we’re no longer in need?

Gratitude, in Ekev, is not a passing emotion—it’s a spiritual practice. A rhythm. A way of acknowledging that we are sustained by something beyond ourselves, even (and especially) when life feels self-sufficient.

Ekev also contains a deeper warning: prosperity can lead to forgetfulness. When things are comfortable, we might drift from what grounds us.

Moses tells the people: “Don’t forget where you came from. Don’t forget the desert that shaped you. Don’t forget the humility of depending on something greater than yourself.”

In our own lives, we experience this cycle too. We grow spiritually in times of challenge. But what about in the mundane? Can we remain awake in the ordinary? Can we be faithful to the spirit of love, kindness, and awareness—not just in crisis, but in calm?

At the heart of Ekev is a gentle but powerful call: Listen.

Not just with our ears, but with our hearts. The Hebrew word used for “listen”—sh’ma—also means to pay attention, to internalize, to respond. The invitation here isn’t just to follow commandments in a literal sense, but to attune ourselves spiritually. To live mindfully, gratefully, and with intention.

You don’t need to be ritually observant to connect with the message of Parashat Ekev. You just need to be willing to see the sacred in the small. To ask yourself:

• Where in my life am I walking past small moments of meaning?
• What would it look like to treat everyday choices as spiritual opportunities?
• Am I blessing life only when I lack—or also when I’m full?

Ekev invites us into a quieter, more sustainable spirituality. Not about dramatic gestures, but about living with depth and presence. The kind of holiness that seeps into your habits, shapes your character, and honors the journey—even when the miracles aren’t obvious.

Spirituality isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s as quiet as saying “thank you” after a meal. As steady as choosing compassion when no one’s watching. As grounded as remembering the stories that shaped you—even when life has moved on.

In those moments, Parashat” Ekev” whispers: this too is holy.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Refael Cohen