Ekev: Gratitude and Remembrance

Have you found this to be true?  Ironically it is sometimes easier to pray when life is difficult than to remember God when life is good. In this week’s Torah portion, Ekev, Moses prepares the Israelites for a future they have never known. They have spent forty years in the wilderness, where every meal depended upon manna from heaven, every drink of water was precious, and every day reminded them of their dependence on God. But now they are about to enter a land flowing with milk and honey, where homes, vineyards, and fields await them.

Moses is not worried that they will abandon God because of suffering. God worries that they will forget God because of success.

God says, “When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them… when your silver and gold have increased… do not let your heart grow arrogant and forget Adonai your God” (Deuteronomy 8:10-11). He continues with words that are as relevant today as they were three thousand years ago: “Do not say to yourself, ‘My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.'”

I think it’s true.  We move through life with no reflection when things are going well, and then disaster strikes and now we’re praying with all our hearts.

Success can dull our sense of wonder. Comfort can create the illusion that we are completely self-sufficient. We begin to believe that everything we have is solely the result of our intelligence, our hard work, or our planning.  We deserve it!

Certainly our effort matters. Judaism celebrates work, responsibility, and initiative. But Ekev reminds us that effort alone is never the whole story. None of us chooses the family into which we are born. We do not control our health, the opportunities that come our way, the talents with which we are blessed, the mentors who guide us, or the countless moments of grace that shape our lives. In the morning blessings of the Amidah we give thanks to God, who grants us wisdom.  We ARE responsible for the energy we put into learning.  We are NOT responsible for our innate capabilities.

Even our ability to wake up each morning and greet a new day is itself a gift.

Gratitude shifts our perspective from entitlement to appreciation. Instead of asking, “What am I owed?” we begin to ask, “How can I honor and use the blessings I have received?”

Perhaps that is why Birkat HaMazon, the blessing after meals, comes from this very portion? After we have eaten and are satisfied—precisely when we are least likely to think about our dependence—we are commanded to pause and give thanks. The Torah understands that gratitude is not merely a feeling; it is a spiritual practice.

There is nothing like a common enemy to unite people.  Many soldiers will report that their time in combat was the most meaningful experience of their lives.  The real danger is not the times of challenge but the times of comfort and prosperity.  We can begin to think that we are entitled to everything we enjoy and that those who are lacking just need to try harder.  This sense of injustice can fester and ultimately destroy society.

We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to focus on what we lack. There is always someone with a larger home, greater success, or more possessions. Yet happiness rarely comes from having more. More often, it comes from noticing what we already have: people who love us, moments of health, meaningful work, friendships, community, and the simple gift of another day.

So we need to remember.  Zachor.  Don’t forget.  How many times does the Torah remind us? 

I love how our Mishkan Tefilah siddur (p. 43) lists 6 things that the Torah says to remember daily.  The exodus from Egypt, and it tells us not to let ourselves become enslaved.  We remember the dastardly attack of the Amalekites and our need to guard against evil.  We remember standing at Sinai and renew our commitment to learning.  We remember the incident of the Golden Calf and the need to check our desires and tendency to idolatry.  We remember Korach’s rebellion against Moses and reflect on how we stumble over our own ego.  And, finally, we remember Shabbat and welcome its holiness into our lives.

The message of Ekev is not that success is dangerous. The message is that forgetting is dangerous. Forgetting the people who helped us. Forgetting the opportunities we were given. Forgetting that so much of life remains beyond our control. And ultimately, forgetting the Holy One of Blessing.

As we read parshat Ekev, may we  cultivate hearts that remain humble in times of abundance, generous with the gifts we have received, and grateful for blessings both great and small. In remembering the Source of our blessings, may we discover not only deeper faith, but also deeper joy.