Skip to main content

Uprooting a Pernicious Ayin and Restoring a Precious Honor


During Havdalah each week, we recite a verse taken from the Megillah:
“Layhudim hayta orah v’simchah v’sason vicar”.  ליהודים היתה אורה ושמחה וששון ויקר  

Many, perhaps most, people mispronounce the last word. While it should be “vee-kar”   ויקר-“and honor”, usually people say “v’eekar” ועיקר. It’s a case of substituting a more familiar word for a less familiar one. People know the word עיקר, “root” or “main principle”, and are not familiar with the word יקר, taken here from the Aramaic cognate of the Hebrew כבוד, or “honor”.

“Honor” as a meaning of both כבוד  and יקר is derivative of their primary meaning – weight, heaviness, substantiality. Now, in the Megillah, both the word כבוד  and the word יקר are used. But whereas the former is used only in connection with money and material wealth, the latter is reserved for honor emanated upon one by the king. Our honor as Jews is derived from the notion that our very existence points toward the King of Kings, and, in fact, in the gemara, all four words of the verse above are interpreted to refer to Mitzvot which express that relationship:  אורה - Torah, שמחה - holidays, ששון - circumcision and יקר  - tefillin.

We are not “the main principle”, we are not “rooted” in and of ourselves. Any honor we as Jews might be due is derived from being a people that stands for and points toward Hashem in how we lead our individual and, especially, our collective lives. In that sense, we can aspire to be “G-d’s vicar” (pun intended, of course), in the sense of “a nations of priests”.

So let’s uproot that guttural, all-too-substantial (for this context) Ayin and glide into the precious honor of pointing beyond ourselves through our acts: Vee-kar.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Frontlet Lobotomy

The tefillin worn on the head (henceforth, “ shel rosh ”) differ in a number of respects from the tefillin worn on the arm (henceforth, “ shel yad ”). One of the differences is this: Though both must contain the four passages in the Torah which make mention of the mitzvah of tefillin, the shel yad has all four passages written on a single parchment, in the order they appear in the Torah, rolled up and placed in the single compartment of the shel yad . The shel rosh , however, is constructed such that it has four small compartments side by side. Though these compartments appear to be tightly bound to one another, in fact, they are almost actually completely separate from one another. They only join at a common base, like the fingers of one’s hand. Into each compartment is placed one of the four passages, written on four separate parchments. Here is a list of the passages, in the order they appear in the Torah: 1.        Kadesh Li – Shemot 13:1-10 2.        V’hayah ki Y’vi’a

Tense and Swelling Faces

" Mah Tovu Ohaleicha Ya'akov, Mishkenoteicha Yisrael" .  How good are your tents, Ya'akov; your dwellings, Yisrael!  These words, some of the first we utter each morning as we enter the Beit Knesset for Shacharit, are the opening words of the third and climactic blessing that Bil'am utters in place of the curse he was summoned from afar to place upon Israel. Though Bil'am was intent on cursing Yisrael one way or another, and sought some subterfuge through which to slip in a curse, Hashem placed His word in Bil'am's mouth like a bit in the mouth of a donkey, and compelled him to follow His original, unchanged instructions of blessing Israel. See Ramban, who explains that Hashem's consent to Bil'am's journey was predicated upon the latter's understanding that he may well end up blessing Israel in Balak's presence! So Bil'am knew he was going to be compelled to bless, and yet he went anyway, and uttered some of the most lo

Here I Am Not

The brief exchange between Avraham and Yitzchak on the way to the Akeidah , less than two verses long, and sandwiched between the two phrases “and the two of them walked together” , is the only conversation between this primal father-and-son pair recorded in the Torah. It is all the more powerful because of its brevity, because of its singleness, and because of what it doesn’t say explicitly yet, by omission, makes overwhelmingly present. When they set off for Har HaMoriah , Avraham takes only what the moment requires – he leaves behind his servants, the donkey and, presumably, any of the provisions they brought on their three-day journey, he takes the wood for the offering (placing it upon Yitzchak), the fire and the knife. That’s all there is – two men, wood, fire and knife. Thus, the set off together. Here is the conversation. Yitzchak says to Avraham, his father, he says, “my father”, and Avraham says, “Here I am son”, and he (Yitzchak) says, “here are the fire and the wood