Aug 04/07 - Parashat Ekev: The Small Mitzvot

Commentary by Rabbi Lawrence Pinsker

 

Every week it seems as though there is a new crisis. The news media – especially television and the Internet – bring us pictures of suffering human beings who stare at us from somewhere – Darfur, Iraq, Afghanistan. Mailboxes overflow with appeals for these people in pain. As well we are asked to help local cases – battered women and children, the abandoned elderly. The Wiesenthal Centre in Los Angeles asks for our support in addressing racism, hatred, and anti-Semitism. Medical research foundations and hospitals want our support in finding a cure for arthritis, cancer, heart disease, AIDS, and Alzheimer’s Disease, to name only a few. Some companies have formal campaigns for United Way. At religious services in shul, especially during High Holy Days, we are asked to help the synagogue, to give generously to Federation and the Jewish National Fund and to invest in Israel Bonds. It’s tempting to turn off or run away and hide from all these emotional demands.

The bottom line, however, is that if we stop feeling, we stop being Jews. The person who says, “Fundraising doesn’t belong in the synagogue!” doesn’t understand the High Holy Day Machzor and the Siddur. In Judaism, behind every prayer is a call to live out the values of Judaism, not just mouth them like an empty promise. And money, whether we admit it or not, is the power that guarantees our promises and projects our values into the world.

The Sefat Emet, who produced the most popular Torah commentary in the Chassidic world, taught a celebrated Midrash on a familiar story from the Book of Exodus: When Moses approached the burning bush, he heard God speak to him: “Take off your shoes!” God commanded. “You are standing on Holy ground.” He asked his students, “Why do you think God commanded Moses to take off his shoes and not to cover his head or prepare his heart?” The Sefat Emet explained that there is a great difference between walking with shoes and walking without them. With shoes we can walk over stones, glass, water – even through fire – and not feel a thing. Without shoes, even in the comfort of one’s own home, we can feel everything.” Step on rough flooring, a pebble, or a nail and the pain climbs right up your spine.

God told Moses that if you want to hear the word of God and be a leader of the people, you must take off your shoes. You must remove the insulation that protects you from your environment. Yes, it will hurt, but you have to feel the pain – every bump, every pebble and crack.

This week’s Torah portion describes the most wonderful blessings possible in human life. The commentator Rashi teaches that “Ekev” – a word meaning “heel” – is really about the “small” mitzvot (commandments), the ones that are easy to ignore, the “small stuff” we never sweat because we can step all over them and crush them with our heel. Rashi says that the major blessings of life depend on our paying attention to the insignificant details that are the “small” commandments in the Torah. Yet when we leaf through the Torah portion, we find only big commandments:

1. Remember that God was the one who took you out of Egypt.

2. Don’t forget God.

3. Thank God for your food.

4. Revere God – don’t treat God lightly.

5. Pray.

6. Love the stranger because you were once a stranger and know how that feels.

Why does Rashi insist that these are such small commandments that we can crush them with the heels of our feet?

The answer is that although these Mitzvot are not small, they are easily ignored or forgotten. Any commandment can be reduced to nothing through indifference and insensitivity. It is very easy to say that we support the Really Big Commandments – truth, justice, love, honour, respect, charity, and so on and then do nothing to live by them. The risk of living up to one’s ideals instead of paying them lip-service is that we have to be vulnerable: what if we do all this hard work, give up something of ourselves, and don’t receive anything in return?

To this, the Torah says: “Take off your shoes!” The heel is one of the most sensitive parts of our body – take off your shoes and feel where you came from, your surroundings, and where you are going. What the Sefat Emet identifies as “the Mitzvah of Ekev” is to exercise our sensitivity and keep our feelings healthy. Imagine what it feels like to be hungry, then go and feed the poor. Imagine how it feels to be alone, and then make a connection between someone unfamiliar and yourself and the congregation. Imagine being disabled or shut-in, and then visit the sick.

The Torah portion begins “Ekev tishmiun” – if you can really listen, feel, and try to fulfill what God is calling upon you to do, then God will respond to the pain “and fulfill the covenant and the compassion promised to your ancestors.” With this in mind, there are no small commandments.

Shabbat Shalom.