Day 223 · V'Lamalshinim · 4.5 min

V'Chol HaRish'ah K'Rega Toveid

Friday, June 18, 2027·13 Sivan

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וְכָל הָרִשְׁעָה כְּרֶגַע תֹּאבֵד

V'chol harish'ah k'rega toveid.

And may all wickedness perish in an instant.

Good morning everyone. Welcome back to Learn to Daven - Day 223.

Yesterday we met Shmuel HaKatan - the man so free of personal hatred that he was the only one the Sages would trust to write a bracha against the enemies of Israel. Today we go back inside the bracha he wrote, because there's a phrase in it that almost everyone misreads, and the misreading matters.

In most Ashkenaz siddurim the line reads: V'chol harish'ah k'rega toveid - "and may all wickedness perish in an instant." In our Nusach Ari siddur the parallel line targets haminim - the sectarians who were tearing the community apart from the inside. But I want to camp on the harish'ah wording this morning, because it makes explicit a principle that runs underneath every version of this bracha, and the Gemara states it outright.

Look carefully at the noun. The line does not say resha'im - wicked people. It says harish'ah - wickedness. The abstract noun. The bracha asks for the end of a thing, not the end of anyone.

That is not an accident of phrasing. It's a philosophy, and it has two names attached to it: Rabbi Meir, and his wife Bruriah.

The Gemara in Berachos tells the story. There were thugs in Rabbi Meir's neighborhood making his life miserable, and he davened for them to die. Bruriah heard him and stopped him cold. She pointed to the verse in Tehillim 104 - yitamu chata'im min ha'aretz - and she read it with a grammarian's precision. The verse says chata'im, she said - sins. It does not say chot'im - sinners. Daven for the end of the sins, not the end of the people. And then she pointed at the second half of the verse: u'resha'im od einam - "and the wicked will be no more." Once the sins are gone, there are no wicked people left. Not because anyone died. Because there's nothing wicked left to call them.

Rabbi Meir listened to his wife. He davened for the thugs - and the Gemara says they did teshuvah.

That conversation is engineered into this bracha. When you say v'chol harish'ah k'rega toveid, you are praying Bruriah's prayer. Three times a day, the harshest paragraph in the Amidah quietly refuses to name a single human being as the target. Wickedness perishes. People, in principle, get to walk out of the wreckage.

Now the second word I want you to hold: k'rega - in an instant.

That should surprise you. This whole series has been an argument for slowness - we've watched brachos ask for healing that takes time, understanding that grows, forgiveness that gets rebuilt day by day. And suddenly here, for evil's ending, the siddur asks for a single instant. Why does this one thing happen fast?

The Alter Rebbe gives the tool in Tanya, chapter 12, in one line that Chassidus never stops using: a little light pushes away a great deal of darkness. Think about what that actually means. Darkness never fights back. There's no struggle at the moment the match is lit, no negotiation, no retreat in stages - because darkness isn't a substance. It's an absence. You cannot shovel darkness out of a room; you also don't need to. You light something, and it is simply not there anymore.

K'rega is a claim about the metaphysics of evil: it's darkness, not stone. It looks massive, it fills every corner, it's been sitting there for centuries - and none of that is weight. It's vacancy. So when the light finally arrives, wickedness will not need to be dismantled brick by brick, negotiated with, or defeated in a long war. It stops the way a shadow stops.

Put the two halves together and this bracha, which sounds like the angriest thing a Jew says all day, turns out to be one of the most optimistic sentences in the siddur. No person needs to be destroyed - only the wickedness in them. And the wickedness itself has no roots - it can be gone in a rega, because it was never really a thing. It was a place where light hadn't reached yet.

So this morning, when you reach this line, you're not cursing anyone. You're stating a belief that evil is thin - and asking God to strike the match.

Tomorrow we finish this bracha with its signature, and it's a study in precision: two different verbs for two different targets - Shover Oyvim U'Machnia Zeidim, and the difference between breaking and bending.