When the Torah Portion Reads You

Ekev & Re’eh — Deuteronomy 7:12–16:17

I have to start this week a little differently, because something happened before I ever really sat down to study these portions.

I was already living them.

These last couple of weeks, and especially this past week, Scripture from Ekev and Re’eh has just kept showing up in my life. We have quoted these passages in ordinary conversations in my house. I have talked about them with Dylan. I have been encouraged by them. I have been convicted by them. I have watched circumstances unfold around me that made me come back to them.

And the amazing thing is that some of it happened before I even realized those Scriptures were in this week’s readings.

Then I sat down and started reading.

And I thought, Father, You have had me living this Torah portion all week.

And maybe that's part of what Torah is supposed to become.

Not something we read on Shabbat and put away.

Not something we highlight and say, “That's a good verse.”

Not simply information we know.

But something that becomes so woven into our lives that we begin seeing His Word everywhere—in our homes, in our jobs, in our finances, in our children, in our failures, in our blessings, and even in the things that hurt.

Sometimes we read the Torah.

And sometimes the Torah reads us.

That is what happened to me this week.

A Father Who Wants to Bless His Children

Ekev begins in Deuteronomy 7, and almost immediately we encounter something that has been on my heart.

Deuteronomy 7:12 tells us that if Israel will listen to these judgments and keep and do them, YHWH will keep His covenant and mercy with them.

And then verse 13 says:

“And he will love thee, and bless thee, and multiply thee…”

I highlighted that this year.

Because I don't know why, but those words hit me differently:

He will love you. He will bless you. He will multiply you.

Last week Dylan and I were actually talking about how God wants to bless His people.

And sometimes I think we're almost afraid to say that because we don't want it confused with some kind of prosperity gospel.

I'm not saying, “Keep commandments and God will make you rich.”

I'm not saying obedience is a transaction where I do something for God and therefore God owes me something.

That isn't relationship.

But I also don't want our fear of one theological extreme to cause us to ignore what Scripture plainly says about the goodness of our Father.

God does delight in blessing His children.

Think about this as a parent.

Imagine for a moment that you are the richest person on the planet.

Money is literally no object to you.

And you have children whom you absolutely adore.

They love you. They want to spend time with you. They trust you. They listen when you teach them something. They aren't perfect, obviously, but their hearts are turned toward you.

Wouldn't you want to do good things for them?

I would.

I wouldn't want to spoil them.

I wouldn't give them things that would hurt them.

I wouldn't give them everything they demanded simply because they demanded it.

But goodness gracious, if I had unlimited resources and children I loved, I would want to bless them.

I'd want to help them. I'd want to give them good gifts. I'd want to watch them prosper.

I'd want to give them enough that they could turn around and bless somebody else.

I'd want good things for their children.

I've told my own kids before, talking about my grandbabies, “If you could have a kid like Hollynn or McKinley, why wouldn't you have as many as you can?”

Because I love them!

I look at those babies and think, More of these? Yes, please.

And obviously our love is imperfect.

Father's isn't.

Yeshua said in Matthew 7:11 that if we, being evil, know how to give good gifts to our children, how much more does our Father in heaven give good things?

And that's exactly what we see in Deuteronomy 7.

God says He will bless the fruit of their womb.

He will bless the produce of their land.

He will bless their grain and wine and oil.

He will bless the increase of their herds and flocks.

He says they will be blessed above all people.

And then verse 15 says He will take sickness away from them and will put none of the terrible diseases of Egypt upon them.

And I read that and just think:

HalleluYah! What a Father!

Again, the point isn't the stuff.

The point is the Father.

We don't love Him because of what He can give us.

We don't obey Him so we can manipulate Him into blessing us.

And it's really no different from our relationships with our own children.

You know the difference between a child who genuinely loves you and a child who only shows up because they want something.

God certainly knows the difference too.

He wants our hearts.

But when our hearts belong to Him, Scripture tells us over and over that our Father delights in doing good for His children.

And then when we come into the Brit Hadasha, Yeshua doesn't change the relationship between love and obedience.

He says in John 14:15:

“If ye love me, keep my commandments.”

And again in verse 21, He says the person who has His commandments and keeps them is the one who loves Him.

Love and obedience were never enemies.

Biblical obedience is supposed to flow from love.

I don't obey Father because I'm trying to buy something from Him.

I obey Him because I love Him.

And because I trust that the One giving the instructions loves me.

But Then Comes the Test

And this is where Ekev got uncomfortable for me.

Because Deuteronomy 7 talks about blessing.

Then Deuteronomy 8 starts talking about testing.

Moses tells Israel to remember the way YHWH led them through the wilderness for forty years.

And Deuteronomy 8:2 tells us why.

He humbled them.

He tested them.

And He did it to reveal what was in their hearts.

Notice Scripture doesn't say they might be tested.

They were going to be tested.

And boy, was I tested.

These last couple of weeks have been something.

We unexpectedly had children come into our home.

Then we experienced the heartbreak of losing them almost as quickly as they came.

There has been drama at work.

There has been enormous pressure.

There have been missed deadlines.

There have been things happening financially.

There have been situations that I could not control.

And Father surely humbled me.

Thankfully, He was gentle with me.

But He humbled me.

And more importantly:

He showed me something that was in my heart.

We talk about being pressed sometimes.

And I like this picture of an olive being pressed.

When an olive is pressed, oil comes out.

And spiritually, I think we all like to imagine that when we're pressed, beautiful, fresh, pure, holy oil is going to pour out of us.

Put me under pressure and you're just going to get Yeshua.

Press me harder and more love will come out.

More patience.

More faith.

More kindness.

More trust.

More holiness.

Well...

I got pressed.

And some things came out that weren't holy oil.

There was some rottenness in there.

And I didn't like seeing it.

But here's something I'm learning:

Pressure doesn't necessarily create what's inside of us. Sometimes pressure reveals what's already there.

That's what Deuteronomy says.

God tested Israel to know what was in their hearts.

Sometimes I think we pray, “Father, purify my heart,” and then we're surprised when He allows circumstances that reveal what needs purifying.

I had one of those moments.

I was talking to someone I had never spoken to before.

I was under tremendous pressure.

And I said something.

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew.

I knew they weren't right.

And I don't mean that I told some terrible lie or said something hateful.

It was subtler than that.

But it revealed something.

I said something that made it sound as though an outcome depended upon me.

As though I was the provider.

As though everything I was carrying depended upon my ability to keep carrying it.

And y'all...

I know better.

I pray a lot.

I talk to Father throughout my day. Sometimes it feels like almost all day I'm having an ongoing conversation with Him.

I know where my provision comes from.

If you had asked me five minutes before that conversation, “Who is your Provider?”

I would have said:

YHWH.

Without hesitation.

I knew that I knew that I knew.

And then pressure came.

And something came out of my mouth that revealed that somewhere inside of me I had picked up responsibility that belonged to Him.

And immediately I was convicted.

Then came another test.

What do I do now?

I'm talking to a complete stranger for the first time.

Do I stop everything and say, “Wait. What I just said wasn't right. I need to correct that”?

Do I bring God into this conversation?

Do I repent right there and make myself feel awkward and embarrassed?

Or...

Do I pretend it didn't happen?

I chose wrong.

I didn't know how to fix it.

I was embarrassed.

I was afraid to say something.

And at the same time, I was afraid not to say something.

I wrestled with it for hours afterward.

By then, I couldn't reach out and grab those words and shove them back into my mouth.

They had been spoken.

I couldn't undo it.

But I could repent.

And I did.

And I don't want to do that again.

Then I sat down with Deuteronomy 8.

And Father might as well have highlighted the page Himself.

Remember

Because immediately after telling Israel that He would humble them and test them, God gives this enormous warning.

Deuteronomy 8:11 says:

“Beware that thou forget not the LORD thy God…”

And then He describes something interesting.

He doesn't only warn them about forgetting Him when life is terrible.

He warns them about forgetting Him when life is good.

When you've eaten and you're full.

When you've built good houses.

When your herds multiply.

When your silver and gold multiply.

When everything you have multiplies.

Be careful.

Because then your heart can become lifted up.

Then you can forget the One who brought you out.

And verse 17 gives us the dangerous thought:

“My power and the might of mine hand hath gotten me this wealth.”

Whew.

There it was.

I would never intentionally say, “Everything I have is because of me.”

I know better.

But under pressure, I had said something that revealed a tiny piece of that same thinking.

This depends on me.

If I can't do this, what happens?

If I fail, who suffers?

If I don't provide this, who will?

And Father reminded me:

You aren't the Provider.

Deuteronomy 8:18 says:

“But thou shalt remember the LORD thy God: for it is he that giveth thee power to get wealth…”

Remember.

Remember.

Remember.

I think that's one of the great cries of Ekev.

Remember who brought you here.

Remember who fed you.

Remember who carried you.

Remember who gave you the ability.

Remember who provided.

Remember who owns it.

Remember who you belong to.

And maybe somebody else needs to hear this because you've been carrying something that you think depends entirely upon you.

You can be responsible without being sovereign.

You can work hard without being the Provider.

You can love people without being their Savior.

You can care deeply about an outcome without controlling it.

Faithfulness is our responsibility. Outcomes belong to God.

What Does YHWH Actually Want From Us?

And then we get to Deuteronomy 10.

Wow.

In my Bible, this section has a heading something like “The Essence of the Law.”

And I love this passage.

After all these commandments...

After all these warnings...

After the wilderness...

After failure...

After blessing...

After discipline...

Moses asks this incredibly simple question in Deuteronomy 10:12:

What does YHWH your God require of you?

What does He actually want?

And the answer isn't some impossibly complicated religious system.

Fear Him.

Walk in His ways.

Love Him.

Serve Him with all your heart and soul.

Keep His commandments.

That's it.

Fear Him.

Obey Him.

Love Him.

Serve Him.

And keep His commandments.

And then Moses reminds us who He is.

Deuteronomy 10:14 says that the heaven and the heaven of heavens belong to YHWH.

The earth belongs to Him.

Everything in it belongs to Him.

And what a timely reminder that has been for me.

Because if I can really get that down into my heart, why am I worrying the way I worry?

An old debt suddenly shows up?

Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills.

He owns the money.

He owns the debt.

He knows where every dollar on earth is.

He can show a way.

He can give wisdom.

He can open a door.

He can provide a solution I haven't even thought about.

Is your heart broken because you're missing children you love?

They belong to Him.

He knows exactly where they are.

He loves them more perfectly than you ever could.

And if it is His will to bring them back into your life, He knows exactly how to do that.

Is your job absolute chaos?

He owns that too.

He owns the company.

He owns my future.

He already knows what happens tomorrow.

He already knows what happens next year.

And Scripture tells me that whatever I do, I should do it for His glory.

So I can walk into the chaos with a different attitude.

I don't have to control it.

I have to be faithful in it.

My future belongs to Him.

My provision comes from Him.

My help comes from Him.

And verse 17 says He is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and takes no bribe.

And then look at what this great and mighty God cares about.

The fatherless.

The widow.

The stranger.

He loves the stranger and gives him food and clothing.

And then He tells us to love the stranger.

In other words:

Love what I love.

And I can't read that this week without thinking about children.

They're certainly not strangers to us now.

But what an incredible honor it has been to have children brought into our home and to have an opportunity to feed them, clothe them, care for them, teach them, and hopefully show them something about the love their heavenly Father has for them.

And isn't that part of Torah too?

Sometimes we think Torah is demonstrated by knowing the right answer to a theological question.

Sometimes Torah looks like putting food on a plate for somebody who needs it.

Sometimes it looks like finding clothes.

Sometimes it looks like opening your home.

Sometimes it looks like teaching a child.

Sometimes it looks like being inconvenienced.

Sometimes it looks like generosity.

Sometimes it looks like loving someone because Father loves them.

Our Children

Children kept jumping off the pages at me this week too.

Deuteronomy 11 again reminds us to teach these words diligently.

Write them on the doorposts.

Talk about them.

Keep them before us.

Teach them to our children.

And verses 20–21 talk about writing His words upon our doorposts and gates so that our days and the days of our children may be multiplied in the land.

Then later, in Deuteronomy 12:28, we're told to observe and obey so that it may go well with us and with our children after us.

There isn't much in this world that I want more than to see my children and grandchildren walking with Father and living long, fruitful lives under His care.

That doesn't mean faithful people never suffer.

It doesn't mean tragedy can never touch a family that loves God. Scripture gives us far too many faithful people who suffered for us to turn these passages into a guarantee that nothing painful will ever happen.

But it absolutely shows me something about Father's heart:

He cares about generations.

He cares about what comes after us.

Our obedience doesn't only affect us.

Our choices establish patterns.

What I teach today can outlive me.

What my children see me do with Scripture matters.

What my grandchildren see matters.

And that means they don't only need to see me obey.

They need to see me repent.

Maybe that's one of the most important things I learned this week.

Our children don't need the illusion that we never fail.

They need to know what someone who loves God does when they fail.

We acknowledge it.

We don't excuse it.

We don't hide from Father.

We repent.

We receive forgiveness.

We learn.

And we keep walking.

RE'EH — LOOK!

And then we move from Ekev into Re'eh.

And I don't think these two portions could have come together at a better time for me.

Because after everything we've just read, Deuteronomy 11:26 says:

“Behold, I set before you this day a blessing and a curse.”

Re'eh.

See.

Look.

Pay attention to what is in front of you.

There's a choice.

A blessing if you obey the commandments of YHWH.

A curse if you do not obey and turn aside from the way.

And suddenly I realized that so many seemingly unrelated conversations and situations from my week were actually about the exact same thing.

Choice.

Will I trust Him or trust myself?

Will I worship Him His way or my way?

Will I keep His commandments or decide which ones make sense to me?

Will I follow His calendar or mine?

Will I obey Him in what I eat?

Will I be generous when fear tells me to hold tightly to what I have?

Will I teach these things to my children?

Will I love the people He puts in front of me?

Will I remember Him when life is good?

Will I remember Him when life is terrible?

Look.

There is a way before us.

Choose.

How Does God Want to Be Worshipped?

That brings us into Deuteronomy 12.

And Dylan and I had another conversation this week about something that's coming faster than I'd like to admit.

Christmas.

Of course, we're already thinking about Christmas because our outreach preparation starts long before December.

And I want to be careful when I talk about this.

We love our brothers and sisters who celebrate Christmas.

This isn't about attacking people.

This isn't about thinking we're better than somebody because of what we do or don't celebrate.

But this week's Torah portion gave me a timely reminder of why we made the decision we made.

In Deuteronomy 12, Israel is specifically warned not to inquire about how the nations served their gods and then say:

“Even so will I do likewise.”

God doesn't tell Israel:

As long as you're worshipping Me, use whatever method seems meaningful to you.

He tells them not to worship Him in the manner the nations worshipped their gods.

And the chapter describes pagan worship taking place on high mountains, on hills, and under every green tree.

Then Deuteronomy 12:32 closes with this:

Whatever I command you, be careful to do it. Do not add to it or take away from it.

That verse came up in conversation with Dylan this week too.

Don't add.

Don't take away.

And I think the question I continually have to ask myself is not:

“Do I like this?”

Not:

“Does everybody else do this?”

Not:

“Is this tradition meaningful to me?”

But:

“How did Father ask to be worshipped?”

Because if He is truly God of gods and Lord of lords...

If heaven belongs to Him...

If earth belongs to Him...

If I belong to Him...

Then He gets to decide how He wants to be worshipped.

Not me.

And as we prepare for our Christmas outreach this year, my prayer isn't that we become people standing outside pointing fingers at everyone.

My prayer is that Father uses us to turn hearts toward Him.

That people see Yeshua.

That people hear the Gospel.

That people who need food are fed.

That children who need gifts receive them.

That families who are struggling see tangible love.

And maybe, somewhere in the middle of all of it, when people ask why we do what we do.

that we point them toward the One who is the greatest Gift ever given.

So pray for us this year.

Pray that Father uses that outreach for His glory, not ours.

Even What's on the Dinner Table

And then there's Deuteronomy 14.

This one made me smile because of the timing.

I'm pretty sure the children who have been around our house have probably wondered at some point:

Why haven't these people made bacon?

Where are the pork chops?

Where's the sausage?

Well...

Welcome to the Torah portion. 😂

Because here we are reading again about what God identifies as food for His people.

And I love that this is happening right now.

Because it demonstrates something important:

There is no part of our lives too ordinary for God.

We sometimes want spirituality to be something enormous.

Church.

Prayer.

Worship music.

Sermons.

Miracles.

Prophecy.

But Father cares about our ordinary Tuesday.

He cares about what happens at our table.

He cares about what we teach our children.

He cares about how we handle money.

He cares about how we treat strangers.

He cares about how we worship.

He cares about what we consume.

He cares about our business dealings.

He cares about our celebrations.

He cares about our homes.

Torah brings God into ordinary life.

And that's exactly what I've been experiencing.

His Appointed Times

Then we get to Deuteronomy 16.

His appointed times.

His holidays.

His calendar.

And again I thought:

Father, Your timing is incredible.

Because some of these children may get to experience Father's appointed times with us for the first time.

What an opportunity.

Not merely to tell them:

“We don't do this.”

But to show them:

“Look what Father gave us instead.”

Look at His Passover.

Look at Unleavened Bread.

Look at Shavuot.

Look at His fall feasts.

Look at the story He has written into His calendar.

Look at Yeshua woven throughout it.

Look at the redemption story.

Look at the rehearsals.

Look at the hope.

Look at the joy.

Look at the invitation.

Father didn't merely tell His people what not to do.

He gave us beautiful things to do.

Open Your Hand

And woven into all of this is another theme:

Generosity.

Deuteronomy tells us not to harden our hearts or shut our hands against our poor brother.

Instead:

Open your hand wide.

And again...

Father, are You kidding me?

Could there have been a more timely Torah portion?

Here I am worrying about provision.

Thinking about financial pressure.

Thinking about an old debt.

Thinking about Christmas outreach.

Thinking about feeding people.

Thinking about children.

And Father says:

Open your hand.

Fear says:

Close it.

God says:

Open it.

Fear says:

What if there's not enough?

Father says:

Remember who provides.

Fear says:

You need to protect yourself.

Father says:

Remember Me.

And suddenly we are right back in Deuteronomy 8.

Who gave you the ability to get wealth?

Who owns the cattle on a thousand hills?

Who owns heaven?

Who owns earth?

Who owns everything in them?

Who is your Provider?

If I truly believe the answer is YHWH, then generosity becomes an act of faith.

I'm not saying we should be irresponsible.

Scripture doesn't teach foolishness.

But I cannot claim Father as my Provider while simultaneously gripping everything He gives me with a closed fist because I'm terrified He won't provide again.

An open hand says, “I trust You.”

The Word Became Life This Week

So I look back over this week, and I almost have to laugh at how thoroughly Father brought these Scriptures into my life.

Blessing. Testing.

Provision. Repentance.

Children. Food.

Generosity. His appointed times.

How we worship. Not adding or taking away.

Caring for vulnerable people. Trusting Him with our future.

Remembering that everything belongs to Him.

Choosing blessing.

I didn't plan any of that.

I didn't arrange my week around the Torah portion.

I was living it before I knew I was living it.

And I am blown away by His goodness.

I'm also a little ashamed.

Because I didn't pass every test.

I wish I could stand here and tell you that I was pressed and nothing but beautiful holy oil poured out. But it didn't.

Some things came out that needed to go.

But you know what else I found in this Torah portion?

A Father who disciplines.

A Father who humbles.

A Father who tests.

A Father who provides.

A Father who teaches.

A Father who blesses.

A Father who loves.

And a Father who calls His children back.

So yes, I failed.

And yes, I repented.

And praise YHWH:

I am forgiven.

And now I get to walk differently because He showed me something about myself that I couldn't see before the pressure came.

Maybe that was mercy too.

When the Torah Portion Reads You

I thought I was sitting down this week to read Ekev and Re'eh.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I'd been reading them all week.

I read them in my work.

I read them in my finances.

I read them in my home.

I read them around my dinner table.

I read them in conversations with my son.

I read them in children.

I read them in my ministry.

I read them in my fear.

I read them in my failure.

I read them in my repentance.

And most of all, I read them in the faithfulness of my Father.

Over and over, I hear Him saying:

Remember Me.

When you're blessed...

Remember Me.

When you're in the wilderness...

Remember Me.

When you're afraid...

Remember Me.

When the bank account looks good...

Remember Me.

When it doesn't...

Remember Me.

When your job is going beautifully...

Remember Me.

When everything at work feels like it's falling apart...

Remember Me.

When your house is full...

Remember Me.

When suddenly it feels empty...

Remember Me.

When you succeed...

Remember Me.

When you fail...

Remember Me.

Because you are not your provider.

You are not your savior.

You are not sovereign.

You don't own tomorrow.

You don't own the outcome.

You don't even own what is currently in your hands.

It belongs to Him.

Heaven is His.

Earth is His.

Everything in them is His.

And you are His.

So what does He ask?

Fear Him.

Walk in His ways.

Love Him.

Serve Him with all your heart and all your soul.

Keep His commandments.

And then Re'eh:

Look.

There is a choice in front of you.

Choose His way.

Not because you're trying to earn His love.

Not because you're trying to earn salvation.

Not because you're trying to convince Him to give you stuff.

Choose His way because you love Him.

Choose His way because you trust Him.

Choose His way because He is good.

Choose His way because He knows the end from the beginning.

Choose His way because the Father who gave the instruction is the Father who loves you.

And when you fail—and sometimes you will—don't run away from Him.

Run to Him.

Repent.

Learn.

Get back up.

And keep walking.

Because maybe the question we need to ask ourselves this Shabbat isn't simply:

“Did I read the Torah portion?”

Maybe the better question is:

Can the Torah portion be read in me?

Can my children read it in the way I live?

Can my coworkers read it in the way I respond under pressure?

Can the stranger read it in the way I treat them?

Can the poor read it in my generosity?

Can my family read it at my dinner table?

Can people see it in the way I worship?

Can they see it when I succeed?

And perhaps even more importantly...

Can they see it in the way I repent when I fail?

Because His Word was never meant to remain ink on a page.

It was meant to become life.

And this week, Father allowed me to live the portion.

Some of it was beautiful.

Some of it hurt.

Some of it humbled me.

Some of it exposed me.

Some of it filled my heart with gratitude.

But through every bit of it, He was faithful.

And today I am so incredibly thankful that the same Father who tells us:

“Be careful.”

also tells us:

“Remember.”

The same Father who tells us:

“Obey.”

also tells us:

“I love you.”

The same Father who allows the test is there in the wilderness.

The same Father who exposes what's in our hearts is willing to cleanse what's there.

The same Father who tells us to open our hands is the One who fills them.

And the same Father who sets the choice before us is calling us toward life.

So today:

Re'eh.

Look.

See what He has set before us.

Remember where your help comes from.

Remember who owns it all.

Remember who carried you through the wilderness.

Remember who gave you what you have.

Remember who loves your children even more than you do.

Remember who holds tomorrow.

And then...

Choose His way.

Not just on Shabbat.

Not just while we're reading the portion.

Not just when someone is watching.

But at work.

At home.

At the dinner table.

In our finances.

In our celebrations.

In our generosity.

In the wilderness.

In abundance.

Under pressure.

And when nobody but Father sees.

May we love Him enough to obey Him.

May we trust Him enough to open our hands.

May we remember Him enough that we never take credit for what only He could have done.

May our children see His Word alive in us.

May the stranger experience His love through us.

May our homes reflect His ways.

And when the pressure comes, may what pours out of us look more and more like Him.

And when it doesn't, may we be humble enough to repent and let Him keep refining us.

Father, write Your Torah upon our hearts so deeply that we don't merely read Your Word.

Let us live it.

And let our lives tell the world Who You are.

Shabbat shalom.