Ki-Tavo – Making our relationship with G-d ‘Real’
As I write this, I’m acutely aware of my own shortcomings, and I would describe myself as a self-confessed hypocrite. Although I believe in G-d, am committed to His words, and try to live accordingly, over the past few years I’ve often found myself lost in the routine of life. The result has been a relationship with G-d that feels less than “real.”
Prayers have become more superficial, constantly competing with the vibrations of WhatsApp messages and a million other distractions. On a deeper level, I’ve been quick to take personal credit for my successes and even quicker to blame G-d when things go wrong.
But we are in Elul, a time of reflection and preparation for the High Holy Days. I, like many of us, am struggling to break free from this mindset and to see the world through a more spiritual lens, even if just a little.
In this context, we can look at one of the verses in this week’s Parshah:
“This day the Lord thy G-d has commanded thee to do these statutes and judgments: thou shalt therefore keep and do them with all thy heart, and with all thy soul.”
(Deuteronomy 26:16)
The phrase that jumps out is “This Day – היום הזה.” When is this day?
In Chassidic thought and in the writings of commentators like Nechama Leibowitz, “This Day” means now, every day. In her Studies in Devarim, Leibowitz explains that the commandments must feel fresh, as if newly given each day, urging us to approach them with renewed devotion.
We need to renew our relationship with G-d constantly. We must not let it grow stale. As the verse says, we need to invest our heart and soul into it, our entire heart and soul.
In this context, the Rambam (Maimonides) offers an inspiring parallel in his book Hilchot Teshuva (Laws of Repentance). He asks: How do we come to love G-d? He gives an analogy:
“What is the proper love of G-d? It is like the love of a person who is lovesick, whose mind is never free from the object of his love. He thinks of her constantly, whether sitting, standing, eating, or drinking. Even more so should the love of G-d be in the hearts of those who love Him.”
This is not just poetic, it’s aspirational. The Rambam is describing total emotional and spiritual immersion, where G-d is not a distant concept but a living presence in our thoughts, our choices, and our hearts.
I’m not sure I have the tools to recommend how to achieve this state. I’m clearly not there. But one thing I’ve noticed since retiring and stepping back from the day-to-day obsession with work is that this world really does not revolve around me. As controlling as I’ve tried to be, G-d is so evidently pulling the strings.
To become lovesick for G-d and to renew ourselves spiritually, we need to make space for it. My self-absorption over such a long time has been a major block to this. As I turn toward Rosh Hashanah, I need to step back and recognize that I am not the King. The King is G-d, and He actively wants us to build a relationship of love and awe with Him.
It’s a process. And at certain points in life, such as now, for me, newly retired and reflecting on my own frailty and health, it resonates more deeply than at others. But I suspect most of us could benefit from making more space for this.
