The chapter before us continues King Solomon's profound investigation into the value of worldly acquisitions. After demonstrating that wealth and possessions do not bring satisfaction, he presents a startling and harsh comparison: an affluent man who lived a long life yet never enjoyed his good fortune is worse off than a stillborn child who never saw the world at all. In this lesson, we will follow the order of the verses and examine the explanations of the Midrash, Rashi, Ibn Ezra, the Imrei Shefer, the Zohar, and the Malbim, along with the moral message that emerges from them: a person who invests all his energy in the material realm ultimately ends up bereft of both the material and the spiritual.
אִם־יוֹלִיד אִישׁ מֵאָה וְשָׁנִים רַבּוֹת יִחְיֶה וְרַב שֶׁיִּהְיוּ יְמֵי־שָׁנָיו וְנַפְשׁוֹ לֹא־תִשְׂבַּע מִן־הַטּוֹבָה וְגַם־קְבוּרָה לֹא־הָיְתָה לּוֹ אָמַרְתִּי טוֹב מִמֶּנּוּ הַנָּפֶל׃ - If a man begets a hundred children and lives many years, so that the days of his years are many, but his soul is not satisfied with goodness, and he also has no burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he.
The Midrash interprets this verse as referring to Cain: "If a man begets a hundred" - this is Cain, who fathered a hundred sons. "And lives many years" - this is Cain, who lived for many years. "But his soul is not satisfied with goodness" - for his soul was never sated with his wealth or the goodness of this world. "And he also has no burial" - for he was suspended in precarious uncertainty, living as though hanging by a thread, until the Flood came and swept him away. And who is the "stillborn" who is better off than he? This is his brother Abel, who died immediately after they quarreled over the fields or the flocks and was killed. He is akin to a stillborn child, yet the stillborn is better off than he - meaning, Abel's portion is better than yours, Cain.
We have previously cited an entire discourse in the name of the Chasam Sofer and others demonstrating that, in the final analysis, it is good for the righteous and bad for the wicked. Anyone who follows history sees that the Holy One, blessed be He, dispenses reward, even if at first glance it appears as though the righteous person has lost out. After all, Abel seemingly was righteous and lost: Hashem accepted his offering - and then he died. What did he gain from his righteousness? Meanwhile, Cain continued to live for many years - "sevenfold vengeance shall be taken on Cain," spanning seven generations - while Abel lay in the grave.
Yet whoever observes carefully sees otherwise. Cain has no lasting continuity; Scripture indicates that he was completely wiped out. There is an opinion in the Midrash that Naamah, the wife of Noah, descended from the house of Cain - meaning he retained some female continuity - but among males, nothing remained of him. Abel, on the other hand, was reincarnated in Seth, and upon whom was the world founded? Upon Seth. If you ask people whose descendants we are, they might say Cain or Abel, but it is neither Cain nor Abel; even that is vanity (hevel) - we all descend from Seth. Thus, Abel reached his ultimate rectification, and the entire world stems from him. Furthermore, "Moshe" is an acronym for Moshe, Sheit (Seth), and Hevel (Abel) - the giver of the Torah and teacher of all Israel is essentially the reincarnation of Abel.
It is well known what the holy Arizal teaches concerning the sparks of Cain, that they embody the aspect of the "nest of impurity." Korah, for example, stems from the root of Cain, while Moses stems from the root of Abel, which is why conflict arose between them. This has been discussed at length regarding the teachings on reincarnations - how Korah corresponds to Cain and Moses to Abel - and this is not the place to elaborate. In any case, observe what emerged from Cain - the root of impurity - and what emerged from Abel - the root of holiness. From this one must learn: if a person believes he profits through immediate, short-term gain, let him know that this is mere illusion.
The Malbim cites another explanation: "If a man begets a hundred" - this refers to Haman. Of him it is said, "and the multitude of his children" (ve-rov banav), and "ve-rov banav" has the numerical value of 208. "And he also has no burial" - for he was hanged. If so, indeed, better off than he is the stillborn, who never experienced any of these tribulations.
Rashi explains: "So that the days of his years are many (ve-rav)" - an expression of sufficiency (dei), meaning that he has enough for all the days of his years; that is, he can acquire whatever good he desires. "Yet his soul is not satisfied" - as Rashi explained earlier, he does not rejoice in his portion, and his desire is never calmed by what he already holds, perpetually driven by an insatiable craving to acquire more and take more. "And he also has no burial" - there are times when he is slain and dogs consume him. And to whom does this apply in every detail? To Ahab. Ahab fathered many sons, possessed immense wealth, yet coveted what belonged to others - he went and took the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite and even had him killed for it. Yet he found no satisfaction in his wealth; it is written of him that "he walked softly" and wore sackcloth, enduring profound distress over the entire matter. If that were not enough, he also had no proper burial, as the dogs consumed his flesh. Thus, better off than he is the stillborn, for the stillborn never experienced any of this, never saw prosperity, never craved it, and suffers no grief when it is lost. It is better never to experience it at all than to experience it only to suffer the anguish of loss.
The Imrei Shefer explains that here King Solomon comes to enumerate everything a person needs in his life - children, life, and sustenance - and to show that even one who has it all causes evil to himself and knows no satisfaction. "If a man fathers a hundred children" - this is children. "And lives many years" - this is life. And what is "and many are the days of his years"? There is a redundancy here that requires explanation: if you have already said "and lives many years," what does "and many are the days of his years" add?
The Imrei Shefer explains: A poor person spends all his days toiling and chasing after a crust of bread. If you ask him how many good days he had this year, he will start counting: twenty days, fifty days - there was a Yom Tov, there was Shabbat, there was someone's wedding where we ate well. It turns out that out of an entire year, only a few dozen days are days when he truly lived. Not so the rich man, who dines on delicacies every day; he lives day in and day out, contented and steeped in pleasures, with no difference between Shabbat and weekdays. For him, all three hundred and sixty-five days are filled with delights - and this is "and many are the days of his years," meaning that the days of his years are abundant. Thus, he also has sustenance, being sated and thriving every single day.
And despite all this - "yet his soul is not satisfied with goodness." His desires are boundless, and there is no rein on his lust and yearning to amass yet more wealth. Therefore, he traverses the sea lanes and travels to remote places to buy there, import here, and make further profit. Then he brings tragedy upon himself: in their times, sailing on a ship was fraught with great danger, and the Gemara says that sailors are pious - they are constantly in prayer, as they are in perpetual danger. Likewise, merchants who venture out into the deserts, where it was very common for desert bandits to attack them, murder him in cold blood, and cast his corpse into the sea or into one of the pits in the desert - "and he had no burial either." Concerning such a person, Solomon says: "I say that a stillborn is better off than he" - better off is one who never experienced all of this, who never saw himself in his wealth and then in his ruin; at least the stillborn merited burial.
כִּי־בַהֶבֶל בָּא וּבַחֹשֶׁךְ יֵלֵךְ וּבַחֹשֶׁךְ שְׁמוֹ יְכֻסֶּה׃ - For in futility he comes, and into darkness he goes, and in darkness his name is covered.
The Pesikta Zutarta states: "For in futility he comes, and into darkness he goes" - as if he never came into the world. His entire existence is an aspect of hevel, something lacking permanence and substance; "and into darkness he goes" - like a person walking in darkness whom you cannot see. Such a person is as though he left no mark, as though he never came into the world. "And in darkness his name is covered" - darkness is an expression for Gehinnom, a place of drought and deep shadow, and even there his name will vanish, since he did no good deeds in his lifetime.
The Michlol Yofi explains that the futility spoken of here refers to the stillborn: "and into darkness he goes" - from the womb he never saw the light of day; miscarried, he immediately goes into darkness. And if you say, perhaps he survived for a brief period and died within thirty days, which is also halachically considered a stillborn (nefel) - concerning this the verse tells you that even the name given to him at his berit does not endure, as his name is forgotten and not spoken on people's lips: "and in darkness his name is covered." The Sefer HaYashar notes that for this reason Adam's son was named Hevel (Abel), because he came in futility and was taken in futility - ending his days like a nefel.
The Ateret Shmuel explains: Man comes into the world for three things - to live in this world, to merit the life of the World to Come, and to leave behind a good name, entering the world with a good name and departing from it with a good name. Yet here he lacks all three realms: "in futility he comes" - his arrival into this world is in futility; "and into darkness he goes" - even into the World to Come he goes in futility; "and in darkness his name is covered" - for the stillborn did no good deed in his life, and consequently does not merit a good name after his death; for what eulogy can be delivered for a stillborn? And nevertheless, we say that the stillborn is better off than that wealthy man who lived long and invested his very essence in worldly matters. Better is the stillborn who never experienced the matters of this world to begin with, for at least he committed no sins - whereas that man, in his pursuit of money, undoubtedly stumbled time and again, even into grave prohibitions.
גַּם־שֶׁמֶשׁ לֹא־רָאָה וְלֹא יָדָע נַחַת לָזֶה מִזֶּה׃ - He has not even seen the sun nor known it; there is more rest for this one than for that one.
Rabbi Pinchas related a wonderful parable: Two men were on a ship. When they arrived at a port, they were informed that the ship would sail the following day, and whoever wished could go down to the city and return at a designated hour - as was customary in their times. One of them went into the town and saw how much food and drink there was, people eating and drinking, and he walked through the market full of delicacies. When he returned, he said to his companion: Why did you not go up to the town? His companion replied: And you who went up, what good did it do you? What did you see there? He answered: A great deal of food and drink. His companion asked: And did you enjoy any of it? Did you eat? Did you buy? Did you take any? He said: No. His companion said: I, who did not go up, am far better off than you. This is the meaning of "there is more rest for this one than for that one": the rest belongs to the one who did not go up, who corresponds to the stillborn who neither came nor went.
This is akin to the parable of the fox we saw earlier, which had to fast until it became thin enough to enter the vineyard, enjoyed itself and ate there, and in the end had to fast again in order to exit. If you arrived here and took nothing away with you, it would have been better had you never arrived at all. For the rule is that the anguish of missing out is far greater than the sorrow of one who never had the opportunity in the first place. For example: consider two poor men; one of them had a winning lottery ticket, but when he went to redeem the prize, it turned out he was a day late and forfeited it. Whose situation is better - the one who never had a ticket at all, or the one who had it and lost it? Surely the one who never had it, who corresponds to the stillborn child, who at least never experienced heartbreak, pain, and sorrow. For one who enters and brings nothing away with him, it would have been better never to have entered at all, and therefore "this one has more rest than the other."
The Ibn Ezra explains: "He has not even seen the sun" - the stillborn child did not see the world and knew nothing, and at least had tranquility, for he did not toil in worldly matters and did not exert himself to acquire anything. By contrast, the wealthy man toiled all his days, struggled without rest, and in the end lost eternity - it is far better to be the stillborn child. And the Imrei Shefer explains "this one has more rest than the other": this one perished peacefully, while the other perished in distress and grief. That rich man who drowned at sea or was killed by bandits in the desert did not expire peacefully and had no burial, whereas the stillborn child expired peacefully and received a burial.
וְאִלּוּ חָיָה אֶלֶף שָׁנִים פַּעֲמַיִם וְטוֹבָה לֹא רָאָה הֲלֹא אֶל־מָקוֹם אֶחָד הַכֹּל הוֹלֵךְ׃ - Even if he lived a thousand years twice over, yet enjoyed no good, does not everyone go to the same place?
Now, you might ask: throughout his lifetime, that person accomplished many deeds and reached achievements, so how can you give preference to a stillborn child over someone who lived and accomplished? To this, Shlomo responds immediately. Rashi explains "a thousand years twice over" as two thousand years. Yet what advantage does he have if he enjoyed no good, saw no true goodness in his days, and his end is to return to the dust just like any poor person? What did you gain from your wealth? You left it behind, and no lasting good came of it - neither the good of this world nor the good of the World to Come.
The Imrei Shefer notes a precision: why does it say "a thousand years twice over" rather than "two thousand years"? Because when a person ages, in his old age he is already considered as if gone and absent from the world, and his life is hardly called living; often he has no advantage over the dead and even longs for death. Therefore, the verse says "a thousand years twice over": so you will not say, "What benefit are another eighteen hundred years to me if from the age of one hundred and twenty I am already as good as gone?" Rather, imagine living a thousand years, and then being rejuvenated to return to the days of your youth to start over and live another thousand years. Even so, "yet enjoyed no good" - he did nothing with all that time for the sake of the life of the World to Come, which is the only true wealth. "Does not everyone go to the same place?" - what did you gain compared to the stillborn child? Neither you nor the stillborn child accomplished anything. On the contrary, you endure far greater heartbreak: the stillborn child could not accomplish, but you could; the winning ticket was in your hand, and you did not go to redeem it.
כׇּל־עֲמַל הָאָדָם לְפִיהוּ וְגַם־הַנֶּפֶשׁ לֹא תִמָּלֵא׃ - All man's toil is for his mouth, yet the soul is not filled.
The Midrash states: all of a person's toil in mitzvot and good deeds is barely enough to repay the breath that comes out of his mouth. That is to say, if a person approaches the Holy One, Blessed is He, saying, "Master of the Universe, I have it coming to me, I have merits, do You know how many mitzvot I fulfilled?" - he is answered: "All of your toil has not yet justified even the breath I granted you." This is "all man's toil is for his mouth" - for the breath issuing from his mouth.
Rabbi Yose b'Rabbi Chanina says in the name of Rabbi Yochanan regarding "yet the soul is not filled": even the departure of the soul does not fill the cavity. In examining this striking phrase, the commentary Yafeh Anaf explains that every sin creates, as it were, a cavity in a person's soul - a deficiency and damage. And although the departure of the soul possesses an expiatory power, the Midrash teaches that the suffering of the soul's departure is not enough to fill the cavity, the void created by the transgressions committed during his lifetime.
The Midrash further states: three never acknowledge gratitude to their master, and they are: the soul, the earth, and the woman. The soul - as it is said, "yet the soul is not filled"; no matter how much it is given, it never says enough, always desiring more. And why? Because it is from the celestial realms. What is one trying to give the soul? Material, coarse pleasures. One does not satisfy the soul with steaks and ice cream, and therefore it is never filled; it is like putting water in the fuel tank instead of gasoline - the car will not run. The soul yearns for something else entirely. The earth - "earth that is never sated with water"; however much you water it, it will always drink more. And the woman - "she eats, wipes her mouth, and says: I have done no wrong," constantly desiring to consume more and more, an expression denoting immorality as Chazal expound. Thus, there is never enduring satisfaction.
The Pesikta Zutra cites in the name of Rabbi Shmuel bar Ami: All the mitzvot and good deeds a person gathers are for his own mouth - not for the mouth of his son, nor for the mouth of his daughter. And a person must understand: everything we saw above - wealth, honor, and assets - is not for his own mouth. Even if you enjoy it a little bit here, in the end it is for the mouth of your son and the mouth of your daughter; those you leave behind will be the ones who enjoy it. But a person's toil in Torah and mitzvot is for his own mouth; this is the only thing that is truly for your own mouth, and from it you will eat for all eternity. "And also the soul is not filled" - because the soul knows that whatever it toils for, it toils for itself, and therefore it is never sated with mitzvot and good deeds.
And the parable is simple: A person is told, "There are diamonds here; sit and collect them." He gathers and gathers, and they tell him, "Enough, you have already gathered plenty; let others collect too." But he replies, "Where are there more? Wait, I am bringing sacks, I am bringing a front loader - a tractor isn't enough, I'll bring a D-9 bulldozer - the main thing is to gather everything." One who thinks this way regarding Torah and mitzvot fulfills, "One who loves mitzvot will never be satisfied with mitzvot," just as "one who loves money will never be satisfied with money." As discussed on several occasions in the talks on the parashiyot: Aharon HaKohen saw the Nesi'im bringing their offerings and his spirit fell, because he had no share with them. Seemingly, Aharon, is this what you are lacking? All the sacrifices are yours; you offer everything, and the Kohen Gadol enters and offers whenever he wishes and stands at the head - yet you say, why did they receive an offering that I did not receive? Were you begrudging them? Certainly not! Rather, if we were to tell a wealthy man, "You have already acquired enough money, take it easy" - which rich man would listen to us? So too with Aharon: he loves mitzvot and is never sated with mitzvot, and it is never enough for him. Just as you understand this in financial matters, understand it in spiritual matters. The soul is never filled, as it always yearns for another mitzvah, another good deed, another merit.
It is told of Rav Shteinman that he would always ask his household: "What opportunity to benefit the public is there today?" He saw immense virtue in bringing merit to the public (zikkui harabbim) and delivered shiurim literally until his final days, holding regular series of shiurim in his home. Even when he was frail and elderly, he would travel to distant places and fly abroad. To a person in such a state, one might say: "Stay at home, rest, learn by yourself" - but no. He would go, because it brought merit to the public. Once they told him about someone who had entered yeshiva as a result of his words many years earlier during one of those journeys, and he remarked: "If we succeeded in influencing just one person, the entire journey was worthwhile" - an entire journey to strengthen communities! One who loves mitzvot is never sated with mitzvot, and is always searching for what additional merit can be gained today and what else can be done right now.
Rashi explains: "All the toil of man is for his mouth" - for the sake of his mouth, that he may enjoy and eat in this world and in the World to Come. A stillborn has nothing in this world, whereas a person also has this world - and nevertheless, "and also the soul is not filled," for he does not even satisfy his desire with minimal pleasure. And Rashi offers another explanation: "And also the soul is not filled" - for the World to Come; the stillborn performed no good deeds in his lifetime, and therefore his soul will not be filled for the World to Come, since merits are required to attain the World to Come.
And here this touches all of us. It is written that Rebbe wept and said: "There is one who acquires his world in a single hour." When? When he saw that Rabbi Elazar ben Dordya's soul departed in weeping after he repented. And seemingly this is astonishing: was Rebbe distressed that this man acquired his world in a single hour? Was he jealous of him? Rather, Rebbe wept for another reason: True, he acquired his world, he enters Gan Eden - but what does he have there? He did not perform mitzvot; his entire life he did not perform mitzvot, and thus he arrives naked, without garments. Over this Rebbe wept: you acquired your world in a single hour, your transgressions were forgiven, but you came without mitzvot - and without mitzvot, what will you do there? And this is what the verse tells us: the soul will not be filled for the World to Come, because he did not perform good deeds in his lifetime. There, it is no longer possible to fill it; it is too late. Only here in this world could you fill it - another shiur, another mitzvah, another act of chesed, another kind word - and here in this world, you acquire the life of the World to Come.
The Malbim explains that after Shlomo presented proofs that all the delights of the world are vanity, he now comes to describe the reality of man's existence in the world: "All the toil of man is for his mouth" - he dedicates all his toil exclusively to the mouth, with all his heart and all his soul. And even when he steals a few isolated moments from his commerce and business for the service of his Creator and performs some mitzvah, he does so as a routine commandment learned by rote. He is in a rush; immediately after prayers he has a meeting; he puts on tefillin hurriedly, arrives at "Ki Va Sus Paroh" and dashes out at "Vatisa'eni Ru'ach"; he prays haphazardly, and immediately flees. And even while standing in prayer, he gives the Holy One, blessed be He, dead and desiccated words, for his mind is preoccupied with business: he needs to call so-and-so, what about the shipment due to arrive from abroad, he hasn't spoken to the port. You stand talking to the Master of the Universe, yet your mind is not there. Thus, all his encounters with the Holy One, blessed be He, turn out to be rushed, brief, and shallow, and he only looks for how to rid himself of them.
And with all this - "and also the soul is not filled." Not only is his soul empty and weary, as he does not provide it with its sustenance - which is Torah, mitzvot, and good deeds - but even his material desire is never fulfilled, for his whole focus is striving for more money and greater accomplishments, and "no man dies with half his desires in hand." Thus both his physical soul remains empty - he has a hundred and wants two hundred - and his spiritual soul remains empty, since he does not fulfill mitzvot properly nor devote proper time to Torah study. It turns out that he is left empty of both. And according to the Imrei Shefer, "all the toil of man is for his mouth" refers to food, to livelihood: a person toils all his time for matters of livelihood, and in the end his soul remains empty, while in spiritual matters he certainly does not give his soul its due - and it turns out he gained nothing.
The holy Zohar in Parashat Shemini states: "All the toil of man is for his mouth" - all the judgment and all that he suffers in that world is on account of his mouth, which he did not guard, thereby defiling his soul. Dreadful! All the judgment and suffering that a person endures in the World of Truth is because of the mouth, because you defiled your mouth with lashon hara, with talebearing, with falsehood, and with flattery.
A story was once related regarding Rabbi Chaim Berlin, whom Rabbi Itzele Blazer had asked not to eulogize him. After his passing, Rabbi Itzele appeared to him in a dream to thank him for not eulogizing him, and Rabbi Chaim asked him: "What took place during your judgment in Heaven?" He told him: "Heavenly judgment is exceedingly exacting, and the primary reckoning is for sins of the tongue - lashon hara, talebearing, and the like." He also told him that in Heaven they are exceedingly meticulous regarding berachot - how a person utters a blessing from his mouth. And the third thing he told him: "Yet know that for Bnei Torah, for people who engage in Torah, there are many advocates of merit."
And this is what the Zohar says regarding "and yet the soul is not filled" - that, as it were, its judgment will never be concluded; the judgment is so lengthy and severe that the soul cannot manage to settle the account for everything it has done. In truth, anyone who contemplates the subject of shemirat halashon sees that the damages in this area are limitless, for the tongue moves with the greatest ease of all: any other mitzvah requires the physical exertion of hands and feet, whereas here, mere speech suffices, and there are those who are habitual with lashon hara, Heaven protect us.
According to Rabbeinu Bachya, the expression "for his mouth" (lefi-hu) carries an additional meaning: that through your mouth, you transfer all your mitzvot to the person about whom you spoke lashon hara. As the Maggid angel told Rabbi Yosef Karo, author of the Beit Yosef, this is true and this is how it operates in Heaven. It turns out that all a person's toil, everything he labored and exerted himself to achieve in performing mitzvot, he expels through his mouth - if you spoke lashon hara about someone, you transferred your mitzvot to him. And according to the Zohar, "toil" (amal) denotes suffering: all of a person's suffering Above is on account of his mouth, because of blemished speech.
The Zohar further states: "and yet the soul is not filled" - it will not achieve completion and will not ascend to its place, because it became defiled and attached to the other side, the sitra achra. This is the meaning of "all man's toil is for his mouth": whatever mitzvot and good deeds a person acquired are insufficient against the breath of lashon hara issuing from his mouth; lashon hara erases and annuls the merits of good speech and good deeds. However, one must note what Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky says: that this does not apply across the board. First, it erases part of his mitzvot, not all of them; and second, this refers to someone who is habitually accustomed to lashon hara, not someone who stumbled once by happenstance. One who is habitual with lashon hara - he is the one whose mitzvot are transferred to another. Several fine points have been noted regarding this, and one who wishes can hear more in shiurim on the halachot of shemirat halashon.
King Solomon presents a stark comparison: the wealthy man who fathered a hundred children, lived long years, and filled all his days with pleasures, yet his soul was never satisfied and he did not even receive a proper burial - is worse off than a stillborn child. Kayin compared to Hevel, Haman, Achav - all demonstrate that immediate gain is an illusion, and that the ultimate outcome proves who truly gained: from Hevel emerged the root of holiness, from Sheit to Moshe Rabbeinu. The stillborn at least never experienced the agony of missed potential, whereas one who held the winning ticket and failed to redeem it suffers doubly. "All man's toil is for his mouth": wealth and possessions are not for your mouth, but for the mouth of your son and daughter, and only Torah and mitzvot remain for your mouth forever. Conversely, the mouth itself can become the cause of all judgment and suffering, through lashon hara that transfers a person's mitzvot to another. Therefore, the soul is never satisfied: one who loves mitzvot will never be satisfied with mitzvot, and only in this world can it be filled - another shiur, another mitzvah, another act of chesed, another kind word.