A Little Bit A Lot
The second word of the parashah—ekev, from which the portion takes its name, seems innocuous enough. At first glance, it simply means “as a result of” or “because.” Yet, as is often the case in the Torah, this seemingly ordinary word inspired an extraordinary rabbinic debate over the value of mitzvot – commandments whose implications extend to every aspect of how we lead our lives.
As is well known, the sages understood one hallmark of the Torah’s divine nature to be what biblical scholar James Kugel calls its “omni-significance”, the conviction that every single word carries layers of meaning far beyond its peshat, or plain sense. In this instance, because the word ekev also translates as “heel,” the rabbis offered an alternative reading of the opening verse:
“And it shall come about because (ekev) you heed these laws and faithfully observe them, that the Lord your God will maintain for you the covenant and steadfast love that He swore to your ancestors.” (Deuteronomy 7:12)
On its surface, the verse expresses a familiar biblical principle: our actions have consequences, and faithfulness to God’s commandments yields divine blessing. This straightforward idea reflects how most people approach daily life. We naturally seek to invest our time and energy where the return is greatest – to get the most “bang for our buck.” Consequently, we devote ourselves to pursuits that promise high rewards while neglecting those that seem to offer less benefit.
It was precisely this transactional mindset that the rabbis sought to challenge through their reinterpretation of ekev as “heel.” Rather than understanding the verse to speak merely of cause and effect, they heard it as a warning against brushing aside those commandments that people tend to “trample under their heels” simply because they appear minor or insignificant. In doing so, the sages transformed a passage about reward into a profound meditation on how we evaluate religious obligations and, more broadly, on the core values that shape our lives (see Rashi).
This utilitarian attitude deeply troubled the sages, as it should trouble us today. In secular life, people often flock to professions that promise maximum prestige or compensation while disregarding vital roles that offer less status. The sages observed and feared that people were behaving the exact same way when deciding which mitzvot to fulfill.
In response, one midrash addresses this dilemma by drawing on a deceptively obscure verse from the Book of Proverbs:
She does not chart a path of life; her course meanders for lack of knowledge. (Proverbs 5:6)
In its plain context, this verse describes a seductress who, blinded by desire, ignores the disastrous outcome of her actions. The midrash, however, radically reinterprets the passage to refer to the Torah itself, explaining why God purposefully withheld the specific rewards associated with most mitzvot:
“And it shall come to pass if you heed [these laws]” (Deuteronomy 7:12). This text is related to: “She does not chart a path of life; her course meanders, for lack of knowledge.” (Proverbs 5:6).
Rabbi Abba bar Kahana said: “So that you should not sit and calculate the rewards for the commandments of the Torah to see which offers the greatest return and do only that. Why? Because ‘her ways wander, for lack of knowledge’ – the precise rewards of the Torah have intentionally been concealed.”
Rabbi Hiyya taught a parable: “To what may this be compared? To a king who hired workers for his orchard but chose not to reveal the pay for planting each type of seedling. He knew that if he disclosed the wages, the workers would plant only the high-paying trees and ignore the rest, leaving the orchard partially tended and partially abandoned. Similarly, the Holy One, blessed be He, did not reveal the reward for each commandment; for had He done so, some commandments would be observed while others would be entirely forsaken.”
And Rabbi Aha said in the name of Rabbi Abba bar Kahana: “The Holy One, blessed be He, obscured the rewards for fulfilling the commandments in this world so that Israel would observe them all with equal devotion.” (Adapted from Tanhuma Ekev 2)
This midrash confronts a perennial human temptation: to calculate the value of every action solely by its expected return. By concealing the rewards for individual mitzvot, the rabbis suggest, the Torah invites us to cultivate a different moral sensibility, one grounded not in calculation but in loyalty to God. This may seem unrealistic, but it exposes a fundamental truth about religious life. Not everything of enduring value can or should be measured by what we stand to gain.
The image of the heel reminds us that the true measure of our religious character is found precisely in those acts we may be tempted to dismiss as too small to matter. Great acts of faith are inspiring, but they are rare. Our lives are shaped instead by the countless ordinary choices that pass almost unnoticed. Holiness is created not only through dramatic moments, but through faithfulness in the seemingly insignificant mitzvot and acts which we might otherwise trample beneath our heels.
