Introduction: Between the House of Mourning and the House of Feasting
In this chapter, Kohelet continues to contrast two ways of life: the path of the wise person, whose focus is entirely on life's ultimate purpose and end, and the path of the fool, whose concern is solely the pleasure of the moment. After teaching us that "it is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting," he goes on to reveal where each one's heart is drawn, and how specifically those words that are difficult to hear are the very things that rectify a person.
לֵב חֲכָמִים בְּבֵית אֵבֶל וְלֵב כְּסִילִים בְּבֵית שִׂמְחָה׃ (ז, ד) - The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. (7:4)
"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning" - they go to the house of mourning to comfort the mourners and speak to their hearts. "But the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" - their entire concern is eating and drinking, so they constantly look for where celebrations are taking place. Such a person belongs to the "society of merrymakers": every evening he searches for a simchah where he can go and bring joy, or more accurately, primarily to enjoy himself, though bringing joy to others as well.
The Synagogue and the Beit Midrash - A House of Mourning
The Midrash cites: Rabbi Chizkiyah said, "'The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning' - these are the synagogues and study halls." The Midrash immediately asks: Is this really a fitting designation for a synagogue and a beit midrash? Rather, when the darshan delivers his sermon, anyone who knows he has committed a sin feels all his limbs mourn over him. It is a "house of mourning" because he hears words of rebuke there, words through which he understands that he must rectify himself. And the Holy One, blessed is He, will ultimately bring joy to those very limbs, as it is stated, "The humble shall add joy" (Yeshayahu 29:19). That is to say: even though right now, when a person studies mussar, it strikes him and causes him pain, know that Hashem will ultimately increase his joy.
It is told of one of the sages that he recounted how he had just been with someone who lashed him with faithful blows, saying the most cutting and insulting things to him, and in the end, "I kissed him and took my leave." They asked him: Who was it? He replied: I was studying a mussar sefer. I read harsh reprimands there, severe lashes, and when I finished learning, I closed the sefer and kissed it. I was given profound mussar - and I kissed the one who gave me mussar.
Fortunate are you, Israel, that there are people who study mussar and understand that it is addressing them. For often, a person learns mussar and assumes the book is speaking about his neighbor, his wife, or everyone else around him; with every flaw mentioned, he identifies the shortcomings of others. "What a pity they don't study mussar," he thinks to himself, "only the righteous and complete study it." But one who studies mussar properly understands that these lashes and slaps are aimed directly at him. Such a person hears mussar and his limbs mourn; yet even so, know that the Holy One, blessed is He, will ultimately bring joy to those very limbs - "The humble shall add joy."
By the way, there is a story told about a maggid shiur who taught a daily Daf Yomi shiur on a bus, and some passengers would fall asleep. He asked one of the leading Torah authorities: Rabbi, is there a concern here of gezel sheinah (stealing sleep), that I am disturbing them while delivering the shiur? The sage answered him: There is absolutely no concern - one sleeps even better to the sound of a page of Gemara. And there is also a joke about a mother who came home and saw the babysitter placing a large volume of the Babylonian Talmud in the baby's crib. She asked her: What is that? The sitter replied: The baby was crying and crying and I could not calm him down, so I placed this next to him - and he settled down. The mother asked: And where did you get this segulah from? She replied: I saw that every time the master of the house opens this book, he immediately falls asleep. I figured it must have a positive effect...
The Midrash continues: "'And the heart of fools is in the house of mirth' - where are they found? In theaters and circuses."
Rashi: Their Thoughts Are on the Day of Death
Rashi explains that this does not refer to a physical location, but rather to a mindset: "'The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning' - their thoughts are focused on the day of death." The wise person constantly reflects on the day of his death, prepares for it, speaks of it, and does not repress or ignore it. But "'the heart of fools is in the house of mirth' - they do not fear the day of death, and their heart is stout as a hall (bari ke-ulam)." "Bari ke-ulam" - ulam is related to el, meaning power: a hardened heart that is unmoved by anything, neither by death nor by spiritual awakening. Others interpret "ulam" as a palace or a fortified fortress: their heart is as solid as a fortress, completely unaffected.
From here emerges a great message: a person must always remember the day of death. And so it was among the Gedolim: Rav Shteinman would frequently mention the matter of the day of death, remembering at every opportunity the judgment that a person is destined to give before the Holy One, blessed be He. Great people remember the day of death. "The heart of the wise" - his heart is in the house of mourning, he remembers the day of death; whereas "the heart of fools" - what day of death? He remembers only celebrations.
Ibn Ezra: The Mourning in the Heart
The Ibn Ezra explains that this is a continuation of what we saw earlier. It said, "It is better to go to a house of mourning," and Scripture comes and adds: know that a wise-hearted person - even when he does not physically go to a house of mourning, his mourning is in his heart. This is similar to Rashi's intent, but according to the Ibn Ezra the connection is clear: when an ordinary person goes to a house of mourning he is awakened, whereas the wise man does not need to go there at all, for the mourning is already in his heart, and the awakening is internal within him. And this does not mean, Heaven forbid, that they are depressed - the Gedolei Yisrael are the happiest people; rather, he always remembers, his mourning is in his heart, and through this he is awakened to His service, blessed be He.
"Anger is Better than Laughter" - A Relative Good
טוֹב כַּעַס מִשְּׂחוֹק כִּי בְרֹעַ פָּנִים יִיטַב לֵב׃ (ז, ג) - Anger is better than laughter, for by a stern countenance the heart is improved. (7:3)
The Imrei Shefer addresses a question here, starting from the preceding verse: How can one say of anger that it is "good," when anger is a negative trait? Rather, the meaning is similar to what is said in Eichah: "Better were the slain of the sword than the slain of hunger" - are those slain by the sword truly good, Heaven forbid? Rather, in our modern terms: relatively speaking. Relatively speaking, it was better to die by the sword than to die of starvation. So too here: "Anger is better than laughter" - relative to frivolous laughter, anger is preferable, even though anger is genuinely a bad trait.
And why? "For by a stern countenance the heart is improved" - from the stern expression a person displays in a moment of anger, benefit can sometimes emerge. Sometimes a person needs to rebuke and raise his voice; sometimes people come to cause harm and you need to drive them away and shout. This is not the case with laughter, which is mockery and levity, and from which no benefit comes at all - it is utter vanity.
And regarding this, the verse states, "The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." Notice: here it speaks of a "house of mirth" (beit simchah) and not a "house of feasting" (beit mishteh). A house of feasting was mentioned above in verse 2, referring to a wedding celebration - a lower level than a house of mourning, but still a mitzvah. Here, however, it is speaking of a great distance: "a house of mirth" means wild revelry, a nightclub atmosphere, the joy of vain laughter. And such laughter is very destructive, as it says, "Even in laughter the heart aches, and the end of joy is grief" - its end is sorrow. By contrast, the wise man, whose heart is in the house of mourning, remains far from that laughter; and on the contrary, there is value even in momentary anger, in a stern countenance, and that is far better than the joy of wild revelry.
Better to Hear the Rebuke of the Wise
טוֹב לִשְׁמֹעַ גַּעֲרַת חָכָם מֵאִישׁ שֹׁמֵעַ שִׁיר כְּסִילִים׃ (ז, ה) - It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise than for a man to hear the song of fools. (7:5)
The Midrash says: "It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise" - this refers to those who hear the rebuke of Torah scholars while they lecture. A person might attend a derashah and walk away thinking: This rabbi is threatening, this rabbi is frightening, this rabbi is saying harsh things. But wait a moment - is it true or not true? If it is true, accept the truth from whoever speaks it. Do you want to hear only "Fortunate are you, Israel," how many merits the community has, that every Jew is a precious diamond? Some people desire only that: to be told solely flattering words. Yet through flattering words alone, one does not rectify oneself. When a person hears words of mussar and rebuke, he improves; but if he is told constantly that he is perfect, what will he fix? He walks away feeling that the Jewish people are on such a high level, everything is fine, everything is wonderful, and therefore one can carry on with the same flaws and the same bad deeds, since everything is supposedly good. No - one must rebuke.
Yet, we have already cited in the name of Rav Chaim of Volozhin, who remarked some two hundred and fifty years ago, that in the final generation harsh words do not succeed; rather, one needs gentle words. To say things that are as hard as sinews - no ear will listen, and one must speak gently. Nevertheless, in more Torah-steeped settings, one can deliver somewhat firmer words of rebuke.
The Story of Reb Yerucham of Mir and the Horse
It is told of a student who learned in the Mir Yeshiva - and it is well known that Reb Yerucham of Mir was the preeminent master of Mussar in his generation, and nearly all the great mashgichim of the next generation were his disciples. That student wanted to bring Reb Yerucham to his hometown. The Rav told him, "I do not know if this will be suitable; I deliver a shmuess in the yeshiva, whereas here we are dealing with working householders (baalei batim)." The student replied, "Rebbe, I will publicize it; the community has asked and truly wants it." And so it was: the Rav arrived, the town took on a festive air, the synagogue filled to capacity, and not a single empty chair remained even in the courtyard. Reb Yerucham began to speak, and slowly the audience began to thin out, until only the student and a handful of people with great endurance remained.
Reb Yerucham said to them: "Know that here I spoke much less sharply than I do in the yeshiva. Because these were working householders, I said things that were far less harsh and spoke in a much more refined manner - yet despite all this, you see that everyone fled. Let me explain to you why. Once, when the first people to ride horses arrived in a new land - some say it was among the indigenous peoples of the Americas, but it makes no difference where - the people saw riders approaching, panicked, and fled for their lives. Why? Because they were convinced it was a strange beast with both the head of a horse and the head of a man; they did not realize that it was a man riding upon a horse."
Reb Yerucham said: "With these householders, they do not realize that there is a man - the inner self, the soul - and there is a horse, the animal, the body. When I began to whip the horse, they identified with it so completely that they fled. Each one felt as though he himself were being beaten. But I did not strike you; I struck the horse! What I said was about the body, about desires, about physical indulgence, about the material element - whereas you are the soul, you are the spiritual being! But you identified with the horse to such an extent that when the horse is struck, you cry 'ouch.' A yeshiva bachur, by contrast, can absorb far more than this, because he understands who is being addressed: not his true self, but the base body and its pull toward physical matters. The rebuke and the lashes are not directed at the soul within you, but at the bodily aspect, and a yeshiva student knows how to distinguish between the two."
We thus learn: "It is better to hear the rebuke of a wise man" - when people listen to the rebuke of Torah scholars as they teach, this rectifies a person and aligns him with proper character traits - "than for a man to hear the song of fools," rather than listening to preachers who speak only of love for the Jewish people and the virtues and unique status of Israel, without ever rebuking the public for any wrongdoing they commit.
Moshe's Rebuke Versus Bil'am's Blessings
Another explanation: Chazal say that it was better for Israel to hear the rebuke of a wise man - this is Moshe Rabbeinu who rebuked them - than for a man to hear the song of fools - these are the blessings of Bil'am. For beyond the fact that the blessings ultimately turned into curses, there is more: once Bil'am blessed them, their hearts grew haughty and they fell at Shittim. A terrible thought. The Midrash connects the blessings directly to the downfall at Shittim, for pride was aroused within them - their hearts grew haughty, and they fell.
Ibn Ezra: If Rebuke Is Beneficial, How Much More So Wisdom
The Ibn Ezra explains: it is better for someone who is not wise to hear the rebuke of a wise man, as this rebuke will benefit him more; and if the rebuke is beneficial, all the more so will words of wisdom benefit him. This is essentially what we saw earlier, "Anger is better than laughter": at times anger, the rebuke of the wise and hard words, will benefit a person more, and through this the soul will take delight, as the person rectifies his deeds - far more than if he were to hear the song of fools, words of praise that do not improve him but only corrupt him.
The Alshich: Lest a Person Grow Accustomed to the House of Mourning
The Alshich sees in this verse a direct continuation and link to "It is better to go to a house of mourning... and the living will lay it to heart." For a person might still argue: what good is going to a house of mourning? Many people go to a house of mourning and are entirely unaffected, because it has become second nature to them. Today one goes to comfort mourners here, tomorrow there, and in short, he is no longer moved. We have noted that people who work with the deceased are no longer affected; for the Chevra Kadisha and anyone whose job it is, it no longer makes an impression or reminds him of the day of death, for it is simply his daily work.
A story is told of Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, who, upon arriving in Eretz Yisrael, volunteered for the Chevra Kadisha so that it would remind him of the day of death. One day he saw that the body had tilted slightly to the side, and one of the workers called out jokingly to his friend, "Watch out, look, he's about to get up!" Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld recounted: "At that very moment, I left the work. I said to myself: You still have some fear of death, but another two weeks here and you will start talking just like him. They even have gravediggers' jokes! Do I truly want to reach such insensitivity? It is better that I retain my awe of death than draw so close to it that the awe is stripped away."
This is what the Alshich explains: A person might argue, "If I go to one house of mourning and then another, I will simply become accustomed to it and remain unaffected; it will make no impression, because it becomes second nature." Therefore, Scripture comes and states, "It is better to hear the rebuke of a wise man." Wise individuals, darshanim, and masters of mussar typically visit a house of mourning, and amidst their eulogies, they also deliver stirring words of admonition and recall the day of death - so there will surely be some spiritual awakening there. In contrast, at a banquet hall, what will one hear? The song of fools, frivolous love songs, laughter, and idle banter, which lead him to inherit nothing but Gehinnom.
There is also a fine nuance here: "It is better to hear" - even if it is not certain that he will actually hear, but rather that he goes in order to hear. On the other hand, the verse states, "than for a man to hear the song of fools" - where a person might claim: "Am I singing the song of fools? I am only listening; they are the ones singing vanity!" Scripture tells you: Going to hear the rebuke of a wise man, even if not guaranteed, is far better than going to a place where fools sing. For even if you do not sing yourself, you are listening - and one who listens to the song of fools is undoubtedly infected by their foolishness and corruption.
The Sound of Thorns - The Clamor of Emptiness
כִּי כְקוֹל הַסִּירִים תַּחַת הַסִּיר כֵּן שְׂחֹק הַכְּסִיל וְגַם זֶה הָבֶל׃ (ז, ו) - "For like the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool; and this too is vanity." (7:6)
There is wordplay here between two distinct terms: sirchim ("thorns") and sir (a cooking pot in its literal sense). That is, thorn bushes burning beneath a copper pot. When thorns are placed under a pot, they make a tremendous noise, as thorns crackle loudly when they burn; and when this takes place beneath a copper pot, as Rashi explains, placed over a fire of thorns, the noise reverberates even louder.
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: When all other types of wood burn, their sound does not travel far. How are glowing embers described in Hebrew? Locheshoth ("whispering") - they make a quiet sound; they do not scream. Yet if you place a few thorns on the fire, you suddenly hear a great roar. "However, with these thorns, their sound travels far." And why? Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi draws a wonderful lesson: "To say, 'We too are wood!'" Do not think that only thick, sturdy logs are important and useful trees; we too are wood! That is why they scream.
In simple terms, this is the Talmudic adage: Istira balagina kish kish karya - a single coin in a jug makes a loud rattling sound. Shake a jug containing only one coin, and it sounds like a noisemaker; fill it to the brim with coins and shake it, and you hear nothing. An empty person makes a great deal of noise and strives to impress, knowing deep down that he has nothing of substance to offer; he must constantly sell an image to show that he possesses something. But one who is truly full has no need to display it at every moment; it is self-evident to all.
A poignant observation illustrates this: If a person meets you and within five minutes tells you everything he knows, you immediately realize that this is all he knows. He has exhausted his store. But consider a person who speaks little, yet when you ask him a question, he answers with depth; you ask him about an entirely different subject, and he answers that as well; you turn to a third topic, and there too his knowledge shines through. Such a person is truly full and overflowing; he feels no compulsion to talk, for he can comfortably remain silent. The empty person, however, must constantly make noise to assert his presence - for otherwise, how would anyone know he is there?
So too, fools multiply words in order to declare, "We too are among the important ones; I too am a tree!" On this, Scripture concludes: "And this too is vanity" - the laughter of the fool is vanity and vexation, which the Holy One, blessed be He, created among mankind to show how they exhaust and provoke one another; that people occupy themselves with such trivialities and endless chatter. It is sheer futility for a person to squander his precious time on emptiness and vanity.
In summary:
Kohelet teaches us where a person's heart truly resides. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning - whether he goes to comfort the bereaved, whether the Beit Midrash serves as his house of mourning when words of rebuke pierce his heart, or whether mourning remains in his heart through the constant contemplation of the day of death. And even though mussar initially pains the limbs, in the end they are perfumed with genuine joy - "And the humble shall increase their joy." Anger, although generally a negative trait, is preferable to frivolous revelry, for from a stern countenance benefit can sometimes emerge. The rebuke of the wise refines a person, whereas the song of fools and words of flattery merely leave him in his corruption - just as Moses' rebuke benefited Israel far more than Balaam's blessings, through which their hearts grew haughty and they subsequently fell at Shittim. And finally: the sound of thorns crackling under a pot teaches us that loud noise stems precisely from emptiness, whereas one who is full to the brim can remain silent - and it is total vanity to squander one's time on emptiness and futility.