The Great Power of the Small: Reflections on Parashat Eikev

As we move closer to the month of Elul and prepare our hearts for Rosh Hashanah, I want to offer a few words of reflection on this week’s Parasha, Eikev.

One of the great messages of this Parasha is the power of the small details—how from what seems small and insignificant can emerge tremendous blessing, or, chas v’shalom, great loss.

The Parasha begins: "V’haya eikev tishma’un"—"And it shall be eikev (because) you will listen." The word eikev also means "heel." Chazal tell us this alludes to those mitzvot that a person might trample upon with their heel—those that seem minor, unimportant, or easy to overlook.

Perhaps we think, “Is it really such a big deal if I forget to say this bracha? Or if I skip davening once in a while? It’s only a small thing.” But the Torah teaches us that it is through care and attentiveness to these "small" mitzvot that we become worthy of the greatest blessings.

Chazal caution us: "Be as careful with a light mitzvah as with a severe one, for you do not know the reward given for the mitzvot." (Pirkei Avot 2:1)

We must strive to make mitzvot keva—a permanent, foundational part of our lives—not something we casually step over or neglect.

The Slippery Slope of Neglect

Our sages explain: sin crouches at the doorway—l’petach chatat rovetz. The yetzer hara waits for the smallest opening. If we disregard one small mitzvah, we risk slowly sliding further.

The progression is subtle: first neglect of a minor mitzvah, then further laxity, and in time, even severe sins. Chazal famously equate uncontrolled anger with idol worship—not because anger itself is idolatry, but because unchecked negative behaviors, when normalized, can corrode one’s entire avodas Hashem.

The Dubner Maggid offers a parable: A man purchases an expensive, beautiful tablecloth. The shopkeeper warns him to hem the edges or the fabric will unravel. The man, thinking the cloth is fine as it is, disregards the advice. Over time, children pull at the loose threads, the cloth unravels, and the costly item is ruined.

So too with mitzvot. If we neglect the small edges of our spiritual life, the very fabric of our connection to Hashem can fray.

A Lesson from the Taz

During the time of the false messiah, Shabtai Tzvi, people were unsure of his authenticity. The great sage, the Taz, sent his sons to observe him. They reported back: “He puts on his left shoe before his right.” The Taz immediately declared: “He is not the Mashiach.”

Why such a small detail? Because one who is not attentive to even the smallest mitzvah cannot have the proper yiras Shamayim. If one is careless with one halacha, greater problems will follow.

Every Act Counts

We also learn: “Mah Hashem Elokecha sho’el me’imach?”—What does Hashem ask of you? "Only to fear Hashem."

Chazal note that the word mah (what) can be read as meah (one hundred). The Gemara teaches that one should say 100 brachos each day. This regular practice cultivates gratitude, awareness, and ultimately yiras Shamayim.

You might ask: is it really possible to attain true fear of Hashem simply by saying brachos? Yes—because through consistent praise and gratitude, we train our hearts to recognize Hashem’s constant presence and goodness.

Trials and Trust in Hashem

Finally, the Parasha reminds us of the purpose of life’s tests:

"L’maan anotcha l’nasotcha"—Hashem places us in challenging situations, not as punishment, but as opportunities to grow and earn greater reward.

A child learning to walk will fall many times. The parent knows this is necessary for growth. So too, Hashem—like a loving father—gives us trials so we can rise to higher levels.

Our father Avraham Avinu faced ten great tests and never wavered in his faith. In this week’s Haftarah, the Navi says:

“Habitu el Avraham Avichem…”—Look to Avraham your father and Sarah who bore you.

They were like a rock of emunah. Though nature said they could not have children, they believed unwaveringly in Hashem’s promise.

So too, when we face hardships—whether in health, family, parnassah, or shidduchim—we must never say “Azavani Hashem”—Hashem has abandoned me. No! Hashem is carrying us, testing us so we may grow closer to Him and merit even greater bracha.

As we prepare for Elul, may we all internalize these lessons: to cherish every mitzvah, guard against small neglects, trust in Hashem’s loving plan, and walk in the path of our great Avos and Imahos.