The Peril of Prosperity (Eikev)
in memory of Avraham Munder, Alex Dancyg, Yagev Buchshtav, Chaim Peri, Yoram Metzger and Nadav Popplewell z”l
Six souls. Six human beings. Six men who were ripped from their families on October 7, now returned to us in a way none of us wanted. As we sit with the news of these recovered hostages from Gaza, we feel the weight of their absence and the unbearable reality their families now face. They are not just names; they are our fathers, brothers, husbands, and friends. I invite you to take a moment to look at their faces, to see their eyes, to honor who they were. This moment is impossibly hard. We are 319 days into this nightmare — not just 319 days of war, but 319 days since these men were violently taken from us. What we count are not the days of conflict, but the days since our loved ones were stolen. The war is about bringing them home, and while this isn’t how we wanted them returned, we honor them now. Their families, at the very least, can now mourn with certainty, can care for them as they deserve. May their memories be for a blessing. May they now rest in peace. Home.
Parashat Eikev reminds us of the consequences of our actions — “when you listen,” it says, “things will go well for you in the land.” Yet, we know life doesn’t always follow this Divine calculus. Good people suffer, and that’s a conversation for another time. But today, let’s stay with the parsha’s promise.
“When you have eaten your fill and are satisfied, bless God for the good land that God has given you (Deut. 8:10).” But the Torah warns us to be careful, lest we forget God amidst our prosperity. We might say in our hearts, “My own power, the might of my hand, has won this wealth for me. (Deut. 8:17)” But no, there is something greater than ourselves at play in our lives.
We don’t choose the circumstances of our birth, the parents we are given, or the love that finds us. We are placed here, in this moment, and we are called to recognize that life is larger than the self. We are called to be humble, to understand that while we must work hard and use our gifts, we are not the sole architects of our success.
Humility matters. It should be a criterion for those we look to for guidance, be they leaders or loved ones. Yes, we need to wield power with willingness, but we must do so with a humble heart, knowing that we do not do this alone.
As I reflect on these words, I am reminded of President Biden’s recent speech. Regardless of politics, his admission — “America, I gave you my best” — is a powerful example of humility. Like Moses, he affirmed that the mission extends beyond his time in office. We, too, must acknowledge that the work continues beyond us.
So, as we move forward, let us reflect on the gifts we’ve been given and the responsibilities they entail. Let us commit to doing good today — one kind act in memory of those we’ve lost and another in celebration of life’s blessings. Let us send our hearts to the east, with a pure thought: bring them home. Now.