Isn’t it ironic that Am Yisrael can’t agree on how to pronounce the word emes – or is it emet? It’s a small detail, but it reminds us that we live in a world where the very essence of truth is challenged.
Today, the concept of truth feels fractured. Phrases like “your truth” and “my truth” dominate the conversation, as though truth is subjective, transient, and malleable. But the ancient concept of emes challenges this notion entirely.
The word emes is revealing. It’s letters – aleph, mem, and tav – span the entire Alef-Bet: aleph at the beginning, tav at the end, and mem in the middle. Truth begins, sustains, and completes. The truth that was present at the dawn of creation remains true today and will endure for all time. Unlike fleeting opinions or shifting narratives, emes is consistent and unchanging.
In contrast, sheker is unstable. Its letters – shin, kuf, and reish – are clustered at the end of the Alef-Bet, standing on narrow bases. Sheker is fleeting, collapsing under scrutiny – here today, gone tomorrow.
Whether you’re an “emet” or “emes” kind of person, we can agree that while pronunciation may be subjective, the essence of truth is objective. It was revealed to us at Har Sinai in words that are divine and enduring. To live with emes is to acknowledge that truth is singular, eternal, and woven into the very fabric of existence. It is the anchor in a sea of subjectivity.
In a confusing world, where “my truth” and “your truth” are sheker inasmuch as they are mine and yours, it’s comforting to know that there is one truth out there. Our job as Jews is to find it and cherish it.
