On a hard and arduous journey, one plagued by hunger, thirst, conflict and fear, it can be difficult to keep the end in mind. This is especially true of a 40-year journey during which an entire generation lost both the chance to see the destination and their greatest leader.

In Parashat Eikev, Moses continues his final speech to the Israelites, focusing on the future. Moses cautions the Israelites to stay on the path God has shown them. If they follow God’s laws a great future awaits them in the Promised Land. From the description in this week’s Torah portion, it sounds like a paradise. Moses states:

“For Adonai your God is bringing you to a good land, a land with brooks of water, fountains and depths, that emerge in valleys and mountains, a land of wheat and barley, vines and figs and pomegranates, a land of oil producing olives and honey, a land in which you will eat bread without scarcity, you will lack nothing in it, a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose mountains you will hew copper. And you will eat and be sated, and you shall bless Adonai, your God, for the good land God has given you (Deuteronomy 8:7-10).”

After so many years of wandering, of losing hope, of doubting the plan God laid out for the people, we can imagine that this image inspired them.

The people are commanded to eat from the bounty of the land, and then to bless the Creator who gave them everything. This is a direct commandment that Jews still observe today with the recitation of Birkat Hamazon, the Grace After Meals. The text of the Torah tells us about the mitzvah to bless, but it does not elaborate on what we should say or how we are supposed to say it.

The sages of the Talmud elaborate with the details, filling in the content of the blessings that we still say today. The rabbis took this commandment so seriously they taught:

“When someone derives enjoyment from this world without a Bracha, it is tantamount to stealing from God (Berakhot 35a).”

When we sit down to a meal, the Torah requires us to invoke God’s name and to say thank you. Beyond just being polite, what are we to make of this directive and its virtues?

I think the answer lies again in the words of Parashat Eikev. For a person who grew up wandering in the wilderness, relying on God’s grace for sustenance, and worrying about where their next food and water would come from, it makes sense that they would be grateful for each bite and sip without being reminded.

However, when a person is sitting in a house they did not have to build, enjoying a prosperous life on a land that they inherited from their parents and grandparents, it would be much easier to take it for granted. They could satisfy their hunger and move on with their day.

Rabbi Jordan D. Cohen wrote beautifully on this idea of gratitude not just for our ancestors, but for us today:

“For many of us, eating can be such a routine, almost unconscious, act. For all of God’s creatures, eating is one thing we do each and every day. It is an essential, automatic act. And yet by remembering to give thanks and blessing to God each and every time, we consume more then a crumb of food, we elevate the most routine, ordinary act to a chance to connect with God. That, I believe, is really what this commandment is all about: connecting with God.”

With this mindset, something as mundane as eating a sandwich becomes a spiritual act. The ancient wisdom behind these important traditions speaks to us today. We can choose to say the words that our people have said for generations each time we eat. If not, we can cultivate our own practices of gratitude.

Before and after a meal, we might consider where our food came from and express thanks to all the people who made it possible for us to enjoy our favorite family meal or a new recipe. We can remember that it is not all about us, but we are all part of a larger food system and a wider universe. May we always eat and be satisfied and bless.

Rabbi Lori Levine serves Congregation Shaare Emeth and is a member of the St. Louis Rabbinical and Cantorial Association, which coordinates the d’var Torah for the Jewish Light.