D’var Torah
Parshas Eikev
David Channin
18 Av 5786
1 August 2026

Eikev is the forty-sixth parasha in the annual cycle and the third in the Book of Deuteronomy. It runs one hundred and eleven verses, which makes it one of the longer parashas in the Torah. Almost none of that length is narrative or law in the ordinary sense. Eikev is oratory: it is Moses in his final weeks, standing on the plains of Moab, arguing with a generation about to inherit everything that he never will.

The parasha is named for its second word, eikev. On its face it is a connective  והיה עקב תשמעון “and it shall be as a consequence of your heeding these ordinances.” But the same three letters,  עֵקֶב ayin-kuf-bet, also spell akev, “heel.” We might say, in English, “On the heels of your obedience…” or “Heeling into your obedience, as in sailing, leaning…” or “Heeling as in dog obedience.” Rashi, drawing on the Midrash Tanchuma, hears the pun and turns it into Torah: “If you heed the light commandments that a person tramples with his heels”, then all the promised blessings still follow. The reward of our covenant with G-d hangs not on the grand gestures but on the ones we forget.

Eikev stands out by how much of our daily religious apparatus comes from these verses. Eikev contains the second paragraph of the Shema,

וְהָיָ֗ה אִם־שָׁמֹ֤עַ תִּשְׁמְעוּ֙ אֶל־מִצְוֺתַ֔י אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם לְאַהֲבָ֞ה אֶת־יְהֹוָ֤ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶם֙ וּלְעׇבְד֔וֹ בְּכׇל־לְבַבְכֶ֖ם וּבְכׇל־נַפְשְׁכֶֽם׃

If, then, you obey the commandments that I enjoin upon you this day, loving the ETERNAL your God and rendering service with all your heart and soul.
—Devarim 11:13

which we recite twice a day and write in our tefillin and mezuzot. In that second paragraph of the Shema, comes וּלְעׇבְד֔וֹ בְּכׇל־לְבַבְכֶ֖ם, u’l’ovdo b’chol levavchem, “and to serve Him with all your heart.” Rambam builds his, not uncontroversial, ruling that daily prayer is a commandment of the Torah itself whereas others write it is a rabbinic mitzvah. Eikev gives us the Seven Species by which the Land is praised,

אֶ֤רֶץ חִטָּה֙ וּשְׂעֹרָ֔ה וְגֶ֥פֶן וּתְאֵנָ֖ה וְרִמּ֑וֹן אֶֽרֶץ־זֵ֥ית שֶׁ֖מֶן וּדְבָֽשׁ׃

…a land of wheat and barley, of vines, figs, and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey.
—Devarim 8:8

the verse the Sages read as the Torah’s source for Birkat Hamazon,

וְאָכַלְתָּ֖ וְשָׂבָ֑עְתָּ וּבֵֽרַכְתָּ֙ אֶת־יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ עַל־הָאָ֥רֶץ הַטֹּבָ֖ה אֲשֶׁ֥ר נָֽתַן־לָֽךְ׃

When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the ETERNAL your God for the good land given to you.
— Devarim 8:10

and the immortal line,

כִּ֠י לֹ֣א עַל־הַלֶּ֤חֶם לְבַדּוֹ֙ יִחְיֶ֣ה הָֽאָדָ֔ם כִּ֛י עַל־כׇּל־מוֹצָ֥א פִֽי־יְהֹוָ֖ה יִחְיֶ֥ה הָאָדָֽם׃

…in order to teach you that a human being does not live on bread alone, but that one may live on anything that GOD decrees.
— Devarim 8:3

Which brings us to the meat (no pun intended) at the center of this year’s reading. The word, “forget”, appears 17 times in the Torah. Three of those are in Bereshit and 14 in Devarim. None in between. Eight of them occur in our parsha and the part we read today. Moses does not fear that Israel will fail in the wilderness. He fears that it will succeed in the Land.

פֶּן־תֹּאכַ֖ל וְשָׂבָ֑עְתָּ וּבָתִּ֥ים טֹבִ֛ים תִּבְנֶ֖ה וְיָשָֽׁבְתָּ׃

When you have eaten your fill, and have built fine houses to live in,

וּבְקָֽרְךָ֤ וְצֹֽאנְךָ֙ יִרְבְּיֻ֔ן וְכֶ֥סֶף וְזָהָ֖ב יִרְבֶּה־לָּ֑ךְ וְכֹ֥ל אֲשֶׁר־לְךָ֖ יִרְבֶּֽה׃

and your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold have increased, and everything you own has prospered,

וְרָ֖ם לְבָבֶ֑ךָ וְשָֽׁכַחְתָּ֙ אֶת־יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ הַמּוֹצִיאֲךָ֛ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם מִבֵּ֥ית עֲבָדִֽים׃

beware lest your heart grow haughty and you forget the ETERNAL your God—who freed you from the land of Egypt, the house of bondage;
— Devarim 8:12-14

And the sharpest line of all,

This is an inversion of what we expect religion to say. We expect to be warned that suffering will test our faith. Moses warns the opposite: prosperity is the harder test, and the more dangerous, because it flatters us into believing we authored our own blessing. Adversity drives people to God; success persuades them they never needed Him (A joke that illustrates this point). Moses is terrified of the generation that will survive comfort.

American Jewry is, by almost every measure, the most secure, prosperous, and integrated diaspora community in the history of our people. That is a blessing our grandparents and great-grandparents could not have imagined. It is also, precisely, the condition of Devarim 8:12 — we ate and were satisfied and we built good houses. And with that ease, for a great many, the remembering has quietly faded: not through any external persecution, but through comfort and absorption into a welcoming society. Assimilation is not a catastrophe that befalls us from outside; it is the slow forgetting that Moses warned comes from within, in exactly the good times when we feel least at risk. For a secular, Temple anniversary celebration last week, we had 140 participants, for a Shabbat worship, twenty-five. Moses would recognize this at a glance.

Moses also warns about the intoxication with power and victory. In Eikev, Moses speaks directly to a people on the verge of winning, about to enter the Land, dispossess nations “greater and mightier than you” (9:1). To that victorious, armed, sovereign people the Torah says two hard things. First: do not say kochi v’otzem yadi, my power did this (8:17). And then, in verses that are just past this year’s reading,

אַל־תֹּאמַ֣ר בִּלְבָבְךָ֗ בַּהֲדֹ֣ף יְהֹוָה֩ אֱלֹהֶ֨יךָ אֹתָ֥ם ׀ מִלְּפָנֶ֘יךָ֮ לֵאמֹר֒ בְּצִדְקָתִי֙ הֱבִיאַ֣נִי יְהֹוָ֔ה לָרֶ֖שֶׁת אֶת־הָאָ֣רֶץ הַזֹּ֑את וּבְרִשְׁעַת֙ הַגּוֹיִ֣ם הָאֵ֔לֶּה יְהֹוָ֖ה מוֹרִישָׁ֥ם מִפָּנֶֽיךָ׃

And when the ETERNAL your God has thrust them from your path, say not to yourselves, “GOD has enabled us to possess this land because of our virtues”; it is rather because of the wickedness of those nations that GOD is dispossessing them before you.

לֹ֣א בְצִדְקָתְךָ֗ וּבְיֹ֙שֶׁר֙ לְבָ֣בְךָ֔ אַתָּ֥ה בָ֖א לָרֶ֣שֶׁת אֶת־אַרְצָ֑ם כִּ֞י בְּרִשְׁעַ֣ת ׀ הַגּוֹיִ֣ם הָאֵ֗לֶּה יְהֹוָ֤ה אֱלֹהֶ֙יךָ֙ מוֹרִישָׁ֣ם מִפָּנֶ֔יךָ וּלְמַ֜עַן הָקִ֣ים אֶת־הַדָּבָ֗ר אֲשֶׁ֨ר נִשְׁבַּ֤ע יְהֹוָה֙ לַאֲבֹתֶ֔יךָ לְאַבְרָהָ֥ם לְיִצְחָ֖ק וּֽלְיַעֲקֹֽב׃

It is not because of your virtues and your rectitude that you will be able to possess their country; but it is because of their wickedness that the ETERNAL your God is dispossessing those nations before you, and in order to fulfill the oath that GOD made to your fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
— Devarim 9:4-5

For nearly two thousand years our people prayed for the power to defend ourselves and did not have it. In our lifetime we have it. It is impossible, in the summer of 2026, to read those verses without thinking of Israel. We must be honest and careful in equal measure, because Jews of good conscience see this moment very differently.

The case for Israel’s conduct is serious and must be stated clearly. Israel absorbed on October 7th, 2023 the worst single-day massacre of Jews since the Shoah. It faces enemies, Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran that declare its destruction as their aim. Hamas embeds its fighters, tunnels, and weapons beneath hospitals, schools, and homes, which makes civilian death nearly unavoidable and then turns that death into a weapon of opinion. Israel entered a ceasefire in October 2025 and signed a framework with Lebanon in June 2026. Yet, it describes its continued strikes as targeting immediate threats.

And yet the accusation from Israel’s critics and increasingly from its friends is equally serious. Gaza’s health ministry, corrupt as it may be, counts more than seventy-three thousand dead; even allowing for the fog of war, the scale is staggering, and a great share are women and children. Deadly strikes have continued for months after the ceasefire was declared, killing civilians sheltering in tents and homes, while Israel has entrenched a physical barrier and now holds almost the entirety of the Strip. In Lebanon it launched what it itself called its “most powerful attacks” after a ceasefire and it occupies territory in the south. In the West Bank, settlers burn fields and mosques while the government readies a major operation, and many now describe the trajectory as a de facto annexation that forecloses any Palestinian future. To say that the Government of Israel is haughty is an understatement. Support for Israel has fallen sharply even among American Jewry.

Eikev is read two weeks after Tisha B’Av. In the three weeks climbing toward the fast we read the Three Haftarot of Affliction; two warnings from Jeremiah and then, on Shabbat Chazon, Isaiah’s vision of a corrupt Jerusalem (Isaiah 1:1–27). Then the fast breaks, and the liturgy turns. The seven Shabbatot from Tisha B’Av to Rosh Hashanah carry the Sheva d’Nechemta, the Seven Haftarot of Consolation, all drawn from the second half of Isaiah. Eikev carries the second consolation. Its opening could not be better matched to the parashah. Zion cries out,

וַתֹּ֥אמֶר צִיּ֖וֹן עֲזָבַ֣נִי יְהֹוָ֑ה וַאדֹנָ֖י שְׁכֵחָֽנִי׃

Zion says,
“GOD has forsaken me,
My Sovereign has forgotten me.”

הֲתִשְׁכַּ֤ח אִשָּׁה֙ עוּלָ֔הּ מֵרַחֵ֖ם בֶּן־בִּטְנָ֑הּ גַּם־אֵ֣לֶּה תִשְׁכַּ֔חְנָה וְאָנֹכִ֖י לֹ֥א אֶשְׁכָּחֵֽךְ׃

Can a woman forget her baby,
Or disown the child of her womb?
Though she might forget,
I never could forget you.
— Isaiah 49: 14-15

On Tisha B’Av, we mourn the destruction of the two Temples. The Rabbis, in the Talmud, insist they were destroyed not by superior enemies but by our own failures: the first Temple for idolatry and bloodshed, the second for sinat chinam, the baseless hatred of Jew for Jew; internal enmity. The tradition’s most radical claim about Jewish power is that we lost it, twice, and we did it to ourselves. And Isaiah, whose vision we read on Shabbat Chazon a couple weeks ago, did not rebuke Babylon; he rebuked Jerusalem saying,

וּבְפָרִשְׂכֶ֣ם כַּפֵּיכֶ֗ם אַעְלִ֤ים עֵינַי֙ מִכֶּ֔ם גַּ֛ם כִּֽי־תַרְבּ֥וּ תְפִלָּ֖ה אֵינֶ֣נִּי שֹׁמֵ֑עַ יְדֵיכֶ֖ם דָּמִ֥ים מָלֵֽאוּ׃

And when you lift up your hands,
I will turn My eyes away from you;
Though you pray at length,
I will not listen.
Your hands are stained with crime—
— Isaiah 1:15

The question Eikev presses on a sovereign people is not “are your enemies wicked?” The Torah grants in our parasha that they may be. The question is turned inward: have you remembered Whose power it is, and have you stayed worthy of it? “Not by your righteousness” does not deny that Israel may have a just cause. It warns that a just cause does not sanctify every act done in its name. The moment a nation reads its strength as proof of its righteousness, it has begun the forgetting that Moses feared. That warning is not an attack on the Jewish people. It is the most Jewish thing there is. We are the only nation whose scripture commands it to suspect its own triumphs.

We do not, however, read Eikev in a vacuum. We read it beside Isaiah’s second consolation, in which Zion, certain she has been abandoned, hears the answer: “Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you” (49:15). The covenant runs in both directions, but not symmetrically. We are commanded not to forget, and we do; God promises not to forget, and does not. The consolation is not that we will always remember. Moses knew we would not. The consolation is that our forgetting is not the last word.

So, the cheshbon hanefesh, the accounting of the soul, that this season leading to the high holidays asks of us — as individuals grown comfortable, and as a people grown powerful is to remember. A people still willing to ask “have we forgotten?” has not yet fully forgotten. Guard the small mitzvot beneath your heels. Serve with all your heart. And do not mistake your strength, whatever its measure, for your righteousness. That is Eikev, from heel to heart.

— Shabbat Shalom —