The fourth of Nisan is the yahrzeit of my esteemed sabba (grandfather), my father’s father, Mr. Abe Staum z”l.

My sabba davened in the Polisher Shtiebel on the Lower East Side of Manhattan for decades. My father grew up davening there, and for the first eight years of my life, I davened there as well.

It’s impossible to describe the atmosphere of the shtiebel. It was a warm and jovial atmosphere where everyone got along, except when they didn’t. Everyone loved each other and argued with each other at the same time. The gala kiddush each week consisted of herring, schnapps, and kichel – all foods that make one’s breath smell delightful.

I remember one Rosh HaShanah when one of the elderly members got an aliyah and motioned to the gabbai that he wanted him to say a Mi SheBeirach. He then pulled out a list of names longer than I’ve ever seen. It probably contained the names of every person in his extended family. It took the gabbai a few minutes to read all the names. I also recall that there were two elderly kohanim in the shul who sang different tunes during Birkas Kohanim, both off-key.

I went to visit the shtiebel a couple of years ago for a few minutes. It looked exactly as it did 20 years ago. Twenty years ago, it looked exactly as it did 40 years before that. It was like walking into a time capsule. In my mind, I could still see my sabba standing at his place, as I remembered him.

The davening in the shtiebel was melodious and vivacious, with a chasidishe ta’am. One thing that the shtiebel was not known for is being particular about dikduk, correct pronunciation of words.

It’s therefore intriguing that my father is so particular about dikduk. My father shared that it was his high school rebbi, Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsberg, who taught him and inspired him about the rules of dikduk. Rabbi Ginsberg was my father’s rebbi in ninth and tenth grade and left a lifelong impression on my father.

I can’t say that I am as familiar with the rules of dikduk as my father is. In fact, my father still will often gently correct my mispronunciations when he hears one of my lectures or when he hears me daven for the amud. But I definitely have some appreciation for its value and importance and try to adhere to its general rules.

In much of the Torah world today, dikduk is mostly a forgotten section of Torah. But in generations past, dikduk was taken very seriously. This is most familiar to us from the many “dikduk Rashis,” where Rashi explains the reason for the grammar of a word in Chumash.

The Yesod V’Shoresh HaAvodah (5:3) relates that a righteous man was visited by Eliyahu HaNavi.

The chasid asked, “Why are your footsteps so distant? Come and announce the Redemption!”

Eliyahu replied, “The delay is because people do not know how to pray properly, mispronouncing the letters and the vowels...”

Rabbi Yisroel Reisman, Rosh Yeshivah of Yeshiva Torah Vodaath – aside from being a seasoned rebbi – has been delivering a popular Motza’ei Shabbos Navi shiur for a few decades. He is also a big proponent of using proper dikduk. On occasion, during his lectures, he shares some of the rules of dikduk and the importance of it. In his words, “he tries to sneak it in.”

In his wonderful book, Pathways of the Prophets, he shares some anecdotes and basic guidelines.

He writes there, “A friend once questioned my interest in the practical rules of dikduk.

“In cases where the meaning of a word is changed by a mispronunciation, I can understand the importance of correcting the pronunciation. After all, in these cases, proper pronunciation is m’akeiv,” he said. However, in most cases, the incorrect pronunciation does not change the meaning of the word. The mispronunciation isn’t m’akeiv. Is it really important?” he asked.

“I didn’t answer.

“Subsequently, I spoke to him, mispronouncing his name.

“At first, he smiled. Later, he mentioned that my behavior was annoying and asked me to stop.

“I asked, “Is Hashem’s name any less important than yours? You mispronounce the name of Hashem, Whom you are commanded to honor. I am only mispronouncing the name of a friend.”

Rabbi Reisman quotes the Mishnah in Avos (2:1), “Be as scrupulous in performing a ‘minor’ mitzvah as in a ‘major’ one.” The Rambam, in his explanation of this mishnah, cites the study of the Hebrew language as a mitzvah that is perceived to be a minor mitzvah and is the subject of this mishnah’s admonition.

As any seasoned baal k’riah knows, there are words that, if mispronounced, grammatically alter the meaning of the word. Such mistakes have to be corrected. For example, the word spelled beis alef vav can mean coming or came, depending on whether the emphasis is on the alef or on the vav. Mispronouncing that word will completely alter the meaning of the pasuk.

Although in davening, even if a word is mispronounced, one fulfills his obligation, it is proper to be particular to recite the words properly.

For example, whenever Hallel is recited, most people unwittingly declare that “India belongs to Hashem because His kindness is forever.” By emphasizing the beginning of the word hodu (as most people do), it means India. It’s only if one emphasizes the end of the word that it means praise, as it was intended. The only time people pronounce the word correctly is at the beginning of Megillas Esther, where the word Hodu actually does refer to India.

A man came to Rav Moshe Feinstein zt”l, complaining vehemently about the mispronunciations that are common in yeshivah circles and about the lack of awareness of the most basic rules of dikduk. The man carried on for a while.

When his tirade finally came to an end, Rav Moshe responded softly, “You are right. And, by the way, allow me to correct you. The word should be pronounced dik-DUK, with the accent on the final syllable, and not DIK-duk, as you pronounce it: mil’ra, not mi’l’eil.”

So, in anticipation of my sabba’s yahrzeit, I nostalgically remember the wonderful atmosphere of the Polisher Shtiebel. At the same time, I thank my father for teaching me (or at least trying to teach me) how to pronounce the precious words of Torah and t’filah correctly.


Rabbi Dani Staum is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbi in Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, New Jersey, principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, New York, and a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. His writings can be found at strivinghigher.com. Looking for an inspirational speaker or scholar-in-residence? Contact Rabbi Staum at 845-641-5094 or at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.