A Sacred Triad: Listening, Honoring, and Doing (Eikev)

Parashat Eikev begins with a reminder that resonates deeply, especially now. Last night, many of us witnessed Rachel Goldberg and Jonathan Polin speak at the Democratic National Convention. Their words, as they continue to advocate for their son Hersh and all the Hostages, were laden with the weight of grief, love, and determination. Rachel, struggling to compose herself at the outset, embodied the profound pain of a parent whose heart has been torn for 321 days since October 7. The collective cry of tens of thousands at the DNC —”Bring them home now”—echoed their desperation, a cry that must continue until it is answered.

In the first verse of Eikev, we read, “And it shall come to pass, if you listen to these rules and protect them and do them… (Deut. 7:12).”

The first step is “Lishmo’a” – to listen.  invites us into a process that Moshe Rabbeinu urges us to undertake: to truly listen. This act of listening is not passive; it is the first step in a sacred triad that leads to positive action. Consider this in your own relationships. When someone close to you speaks—whether in love, anger, or desperation—listening is the first and most crucial step. It’s about more than just hearing words; it’s about receiving the deeper message, the unspoken needs that lie beneath. This is what Moshe asks of us: to listen with our hearts, to be present for the pain and the plea.

The second step is “Lishmor”—to guard or protect. But what are we guarding? Not just the command itself, but the relationship from which it arises. Every meaningful relationship carries with it unspoken demands—those that require us to listen carefully and guard the trust that has been placed in us. Whether with a parent, a spouse, a child, or a neighbor, these obligations shape our actions and define our integrity.

Finally, there is “La’asot”—to do. We can feel deeply, we can speak passionately, but until we act, our intentions remain incomplete. As President Obama once said in response to a loud audience reaction, “Don’t boo—vote.” This call to action underscores the difference between feeling something and doing something about it. The tears we shed upon hearing the stories of October 7 survivors and the families of hostages are only the beginning. The real question is: What will we do next?

The universe has been calling out for goodness, kindness, and justice long before these 321 days. The Torah calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves, to honor truth, and to live with integrity. These calls are not exclusive—they coexist within the same universe, and there is more than enough love and kindness to go around.

So, what is the specific message we need to hear right now? For each of us, it might be different. Judaism does not prescribe a singular response, but it demands a response nonetheless. The steps are clear: listen, honor the relationship, and do something about it.

As we reflect on the grief and pain of these 321 days, let us remember that this grief must not paralyze us. Instead, it should propel us into action. We cannot afford to remain stagnant in our sorrow. Our tradition demands that we move forward with purpose.

Let us take a moment, before we sing, to truly listen—to hear what is being asked of us in this moment. Consider the relationship within which this call arises. And then, before we join our voices in prayer, decide what action you will take in response.

We are all necessary. What you heard is important. And once you have heard it, you are obligated to act. So, pray with me that they come home—and let’s do something about it too.