(א) בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּ֒שָֽׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לַעֲסֹק בְּדִבְרֵי תוֹרָה:
(1) Blessed are You, Adonoy our God, Ruler of the Universe, Who sanctified us with commandments and commanded us to be engrossed in the words of Torah.
(7) Then he took the record of the covenant and read it aloud to the people. And they said, “We will do and hear everything the Lord has said!”-a
Rabbi Jill Jacobs, "Do First, Understand Later", https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/do-first-understand-later/
Judaism is often said to be a religion of deed rather than of intention. Though overly simplistic, this description reflects the centrality of mitzvot in Jewish life, as well as the rabbinic conclusion that, in most cases, a person who performs a mitzvah without focusing on its significance has nevertheless fulfilled his or her religious obligation.
This understanding of Judaism as a religion of action is encapsulated by the biblical verse in which the Jews standing at Mount Sinai signal their acceptance of the Torah with the words “na’aseh v’nishma“–“We will do and we will hear/understand.” In other words, the Jewish people promise first to observe the laws of the Torah, and only afterward to study these laws. In traditional Jewish culture, this statement has come to epitomize the Jewish commitment to the Torah
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, "We Will Do and We Will Hear", https://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/mishpatim/we-will-do-and-we-will-hear/
Judaism is a matter of creed as well as deed. But we should allow people great leeway in how they understand the faith of our ancestors. Heresy-hunting is not our happiest activity.
“We will do and we will understand,” means: we will do in the same way; we will understand in our own way.
I believe that action unites us, leaving us space to find our own way to faith.
Rabbi Shai Held, "Turning Memory into Empathy: The Torah’s Ethical Charge", https://www.reconstructingjudaism.org/dvar-torah/turning-memory-empathy-torahs-ethical-charge
The obligation to love and care for the stranger and the dispossessed is a basic covenantal requirement incumbent upon us as Jews. We surely have moral obligations that are incumbent upon us because of the simple fact that we are human beings. In its recurrent appeals to memory, the Torah seeks to amplify and intensify those obligations, to remind us, even when it is difficult to hear, that the fate of the stranger is our responsibility.
This mandate may seem overwhelming at times, and its concrete implications may sometimes be difficult to discern. But loving the stranger is fundamental and lies at the heart of Torah. If we wish to take the obligation to serve God seriously, and to be worthy heirs of the Jewish tradition, we have no choice but to wrestle with these words, and to seek to grow in empathy and compassion.