In his 2014 book Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less, Greg McKeown explains that “the word priority came into the English language in the 1400s. It was singular. It meant the very first or prior thing. It stayed singular for the next five hundred years. Only in the 1900s did we pluralize the term and start talking about priorities. Illogically, we reasoned that by changing the word we could bend reality. Somehow, we would now be able to have multiple “first” things. People and companies routinely try to do just that. One leader told me of this experience in a company that talked of “Pri-1, Pri-2, Pri-3, Pri-4, and Pri-5.” This gave the impression of many things being the priority but actually meant nothing was.” 

Before crossing the Jordan River into the Land of Israel, the tribes of Reuven and Gad petitioned Moshe to let them remain east of the Jordan, outside of the Land, where there was more fertile pasture for their livestock. “Then they stepped up to him and said, ‘We will build here [east of the Jordan] enclosures for our flocks and towns for our children.’” (Bamidbar 32:16)  

Moshe struck a bargain with Reuven and Gad – they would lead the conquest of the Land alongside their brethren, after which they would return to their homes east of the Jordan. But in confirming their pledge, Moshe notably switches the order of operations. “Build towns for your children and enclosures for your flocks,” Moshe instructs, “but do what you have promised.” (Bamidbar 32:24) 

Rashi, the famed medieval French commentator, notes in this reordering an implied admonition. “[The tribes of Reuven and Gad] paid more attention to their property than to their sons and daughters, because they mentioned their livestock before their children. Moshe said to them, “Not so! Make the main thing (ikar) the main thing and what is subordinate (tafel) subordinate. First build cities for your little ones and afterwards enclosures for your flocks.” 

In our fast-paced lives, with constant competing claims on our finite resources, it is crucial to identify for oneself what is ikar – what is core – and what is tafel – what is, at best, secondary. Then, the real work begins – to keep the main thing the main thing, and not let the tafel intrude on our ikar. 

How might a multiplicity of priorities obfuscate that which is essential? Given that the world will make ever-growing demands on us, how do we live a life that embodies what we truly prioritize?