At the end of Chapter 10, King Solomon juxtaposes two contrasting pictures: a land whose king is a youth, and a land whose king is a free man. As we will see, beyond the literal meaning regarding kingship and state governance, there is a wonderful parable here for man himself - concerning the question of who rules in the miniature kingdom known as the human body, and who serves whom.
אִי לָךְ אֶרֶץ שֶׁמַּלְכֵּךְ נָעַר וְשָׂרַיִךְ בַּבֹּקֶר יֹאכֵלוּ׃ - Woe to you, O land, whose king is a youth, and whose ministers feast in the morning!
Pesikta Zutreta explains: "Whose king is a youth" - one who does not concern himself with the constructive order of society. When people want to say that someone lacks sound judgment, they refer to him as a "youth." Here, "youth" does not necessarily denote chronological age, but rather a pattern of behavior: someone who acts with childish immaturity.
A secular author once made a sharp observation on this matter: When I was sixteen, I was ashamed to stand near my father, lest people realize I was the son of that fool; but by the time I reached twenty-two, I was astonished at how much wisdom my father had acquired in just six years. Naturally, it was not the father who matured between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two, but rather the son who suddenly discovered that his father was wise. At sixteen, he was certain that the world belonged to the young and that he understood everything. Once he matured a bit, he realized his father was vastly wiser than he was, and that in his earlier youth, he himself had been the fool.
We saw this with Rechavam, the son of Solomon, who abandoned the counsel of the elders and chose the counsel of the youths, ultimately leading to the division of his kingdom. The elders told him: Tell them you will be their servant, concede to whatever they request, and afterward you can do as you wish. This is the way of politics in every generation: before elections the walls scream at you, "Vote for so-and-so," and after elections you scream at the walls. But the youths said to him: Do not yield; if you do not strike them over the head with a fifty-kilo hammer right from the start, it will not work - "My father chastised you with whips, but I will chastise you with scorpions." This is foolish counsel, the advice of reckless youths. "Woe to you, O land, whose king is a youth" - who is himself immature and heeds the counsel of youths.
From here, our Sages also derived a practical halachah. It was taught in a baraita: Until when do judges sit in judgment? Rav Sheshet said: Until mealtime. And Rav Chama asked, what is the scriptural source? As it is written: "Woe to you, O land, whose king is a youth, and whose ministers feast in the morning."
אַשְׁרֵיךְ אֶרֶץ שֶׁמַּלְכֵּךְ בֶּן חוֹרִים וְשָׂרַיִךְ בָּעֵת יֹאכֵלוּ בִּגְבוּרָה וְלֹא בַשְּׁתִי׃ - Happy are you, O land, whose king is a free man, and whose ministers dine at the proper time, for strength and not for drunkenness!
The Gemara in Masechet Shabbat expounds: "For strength" - through the strength of Torah; "and not for drunkenness" [sheti] - not for the excessive drinking [shetiah] of wine. They would eat at the appropriate time for eating, and only after the vigor of Torah, after judging according to Torah law. One does not open the day with a feast. And this refers to an actual feast, not a modest morning meal (pat shacharit): one does not hold feasts first; rather, first one administers justice, first one studies Torah.
The Midrash further cites: Rabbi Il'ai said, at the hour Shlomo said, "Fetch me a sword... divide the living child," his court began saying, "Woe to you, O land, whose king is a youth." One must appreciate the scene: Shlomo ascended the throne at the age of twelve. Before him sat veteran judges, perhaps eighty years old, watching this young boy rise to the monarchy. And what was the very first ruling he issued? To take the child and cut him in two! They thought: Is it not enough that one has died, that he commands to cut the second as well? Where is this boy's sense? But as soon as he said, "Give her the living child, and do not put him to death," and a heavenly voice (Bat Kol) went forth and proclaimed, "She is his mother," they began saying, "Fortunate are you, O land, whose king is a free man."
As explained elsewhere, Shlomo's approach was exceptionally astute. Shlomo knew the ruling in advance - from the claims of the women, based on the order and priority of their words, he understood who was telling the truth. However, he was concerned that if he ruled directly based on his own insight, the verdict would be correct but unconvincing. Therefore, he acted in a way that would leave everyone fully persuaded. He commanded, "Divide it," and immediately the true mother pleaded: The child is mine, but I am willing for him to live even if he is not raised by me, as long as he lives. At that moment, it became clear to all who the real mother was. His court saw firsthand how truly, "Fortunate are you, O land, whose king is a free man" - a king who is not swayed by pressure or external forces, but is entirely independent in his thinking and judges according to the absolute truth.
The Midrash continues: "'And your princes eat at the proper time' - in the time of the World to Come; 'in strength and not in drunkenness (besheti)' - in its vigor and not in its weariness (teshisutah)." The word sheti here is related to tashi (weakness), by way of interchangeable letters - as in "You neglected (teshi) the Rock Who bore you," and as found in keves and kesev, salmah and simlah, lahak and kahal, and the like. That is to say: with the vigor of Torah and not with weakness in Torah; observe how great he was in his Torah mastery.
The Midrash states further: "'Woe to you, O land, whose king is a youth' - these are the kings of Israel, who were notoriously wicked, virtually all of them without exception. 'Fortunate are you, O land, whose king is a free man' - these are the kings of Judah, most of whom were righteous and possessed the stature of free men. 'And your princes feast in the morning' - these are the kings of Israel, who indulged in lavish feasts and ostentatious celebrations from early morning. 'And your princes eat at the proper time' - these are the kings of Judah, who ate at the proper time, when it was fitting for a meal, and did not engage in constant parties and revelry." Rashi explains: "'Woe to you, O land, whose king is a youth' - when your king and your judges conduct themselves with childishness"; this aligns with the words of Pesikta Zutreta.
Before turning to the explanation of the holy Alshich, let us offer a brief introduction. Someone once asked Rav Elyashiv: How can Chazal say, "You have no free man except one who engages in Torah," when everyday perception seemingly suggests the opposite? This is also how the general public often views observant Jews: "He is not allowed to do that; he is religious" - as if everything is permitted to one who is not religious. Setting aside that flawed premise, the widespread notion remains that the Torah restricts a person. In earlier times, secular people were referred to as chofshi'im ("free ones"): he is free, able to do whatever he wants, while you cannot. Seemingly, on the contrary, one who studies and observes Torah is bound twenty-four hours a day; there is not a moment when Halachah does not direct him, whether he is attending to his needs or going to sleep. How, then, can he be called a free man?
Rav Elyashiv answered them: What is the true difference between a slave and a free man? Is it income level? It is entirely possible that the knowledge, skill, and earnings of a free man are far lower than those of an accomplished slave who generates a fortune. Is it the difficulty of the labor? There are free people who work from dawn until their strength is depleted, while some slaves work very little. Rather, the difference lies in a single distinction: the free man puts his earnings into his own pocket, while the slave puts them into his master's pocket. If a free man earns even a single shekel, that shekel is his. If a slave earns a million dollars, it belongs to his master.
Consequently, the question is not how hard you work, how brilliant you are, or what your income looks like, but rather: does it remain yours, or does it pass to someone else? The only person who works and keeps what he earns is one who engages in Torah and fulfills mitzvot - he alone places his earnings into his own pocket, up in Heaven, where no one can take them from him. By contrast, one who is enslaved to his desires - what has he achieved? He acquired another asset, became a billionaire, a multi-billionaire, only - in the words of Rabbeinu Bachya - for his wife's next husband. "And they leave their wealth to others." It follows that everything a person acquires in the physical realm is an expression of servitude, for he acquires what will not remain his; while whatever one acquires in the spiritual realm, even if modest, makes him truly a free man, for he has acquired something eternal.
The foundation of this idea is articulated by the holy Alshich on our verse. He raises a difficulty: seemingly, "a free man" (ben chorim) is not the opposite of "a youth" (na'ar). The true opposite of a free man is a slave, and the opposite of a youth is an elder - as in "both young (mina'ar) and old (ve'ad zaken)." Why, then, did Shlomo present a contrast between a youth and a free man?
The Alshich explains: the word na'ar has several meanings, one of which is an attendant or servant. "Yehoshua bin Nun, a youth (na'ar)" - yet Yehoshua was forty-two years old at the Exodus, quite an older "youth"! Rather, na'ar there means an attendant. Similarly, "Geichazi, the attendant (na'ar) of Elisha," "and Purah his attendant (na'aro)," and many other examples. When a person is subjugated to the Yetzer Hara, he is its attendant and servant, doing whatever it desires - a slave to his passions. In contrast, one who is subjugated to the Yetzer Hatov is called a free man, because he is not enslaved to anything: "You have no free man except one who engages in Torah," for he is free from the dominion of base desire, and nothing holds him in bondage.
Rav Yaakov Galinsky, who was known for his sharp sense of humor, recounted: Everywhere I told jokes, people laughed. There was only one person from whom I managed to draw out a smile maybe once, and I felt very good about it - Rav Chatzkel Levenstein, the mashgiach of the Ponevezh Yeshivah. At first it bothered me, but later I understood that this came from the Kelm upbringing. The Kelm chinuch says: I am not supposed to do what everyone else does, and I am not supposed to do what I am expected to do; I am supposed to do what I need to do. Laughing just because everyone else is laughing - that is not Kelm. Kelm is "What is my obligation in my world?" And since that was so, he did not do things because others were doing them, but only what needed to be done. That is a true servant of Hashem, and he is a free man: he is unaffected by any pressure.
Can anyone imagine any kind of pressure that could have been applied to Rav Shteinman to change his mind? Any amount of money? Perhaps only money for the Torah world. Once, a wealthy donor with quite an eccentricity arrived and said he was willing to donate a million dollars to the yeshivah world on condition that Rav Shteinman engrave his name on a gold watch. People were embarrassed to even convey the request to him. When they told him, Rav Shteinman replied: I do not know how to engrave, but if he is willing to donate, I am willing to do it. They brought a special tool, explained to the Rav how it worked, and the Rav engraved the man's name on the watch so that the donor would give a million dollars to the yeshivah world.
It turns out that there was only one thing that could persuade him: if it served to magnify Torah. Someone else would not have surrendered his dignity - "What, have I become your engraver? Go ask a government minister or a member of Knesset." Rav Shteinman made no such calculation: there is something here for the world of Torah; I am willing to lower myself, for the Gadol Hador to be an engraver on your watch, provided that you give money to the yeshivos. But to think that anything else could sway his mind - impossible. That is a truly free man: there is no leverage that can pressure him.
And what is a slave? A person who is driven by every petty desire. An example of a true slave: a person who discovers at midnight that he has run out of cigarettes. What does he do? He embarks on a trek through the city, gets into his car, and starts driving from place to place, hoping maybe some kiosk is still open on some corner, until he finds his dose of oxygen. He must have a cigarette. And this is just one example; this slavery can be seen in every matter where a person is dominated by desires - a slave to his cravings.
Thus, the youth is a servant to the evil inclination, which rushes him after every desire, while the opposite is the free man: I am a slave to no one; I am a servant only to the One. And one who is a servant to the One is a slave to no one; by being a servant to the Holy One, blessed be He, you throw off every other form of subjugation.
According to this: "Woe to you, O land whose king is a youth" - woe to the land whose king is subjugated to others, to physical desires, to the evil inclination; all of these are in the category of a slave ruling over him. And on the other hand, "Fortunate are you, O land whose king is a free man" - who is dependent on no one, who does what Hashem wants, free from subjugation to the yetzer hara and mastering his inclinations. And then: "Your princes eat at the proper time, with strength and not with drunkenness" - man is a "small city with few men in it," which is the body, and the princes are the limbs and the senses. He rules over them all, and none rules over him. And when it is time to eat, he will eat; "your princes eat at the proper time," not because he feels like it, but because it is needed now. And so it is with everything: every action is performed according to the sovereignty, where the king is the free man who decides what must be done at every stage.
He brings an example from the Zohar in Parashat Balak, where the famous Yenuka told the sages at his table: Do not eat bread until you have acquired it first with the strength of words of Torah. This is "with strength" - Torah was given through Gevurah. First comes strength, first comes Torah, and only then do we eat.
What is the meaning of "and not in strife"? The Alshich explains that the word for drunkenness here (*sheti*) is related to the phrase "they lined up at the gate" - bringing the soldiers to the gate to battle. Sometimes the battle of Torah is fought with a combative spirit, which is very negative: a person wants to win an argument, to prove himself right, to show that he understands better than others. This is not the proper path in Torah study. Engagement in Torah must stem from an aspiration to arrive at the truth, from a genuine desire to know what the truth of Torah is. And that is "with strength and not in strife": not a war fought to provoke or score points, but the strength of Torah aimed at arriving at truth. And then, as Chazal say regarding "love at the end," they emerge in genuine love, because they truly attained the goal.
The Imrei Shefer adds an allegorical interpretation beyond the literal meaning. The Sages refer to man as a "city": "A small city with few men in it" - the "men" inside it are all the limbs and senses. The ruler, the king, is the rational soul, which the Holy One, blessed be He, crowned over the body, granting it the power to rule over all desires and lusts. Appointed beneath it are ministers - wisdom, intellect, and the faculties of the soul - which serve as officers obedient to its command.
Notice the precision of the phrase: "Your king is a youth" - meaning, let your king govern from youth. If a person becomes accustomed from a tender age to having his faculties subjugated to his soul, so that his inner will decides rather than yielding to momentary desires - "Fortunate are you, O land." For "man is born a wild ass's colt," and if one postpones self-rectification until adulthood, it will be exceedingly difficult to transform his nature. This is why education begins at a very early age: when a child is instilled with habits from young, they become an acquired part of his soul and second nature to him.
Take a twelve-year-old child and try teaching him berachos for the first time - what are the chances that he will consistently remember what to recite, which blessing to make, and never forget to bless? But with a child whose parents recite berachos with him from the age of three, it becomes ingrained in his blood; he would never pick up food without blessing over it, for it has become part of him. And if this is true of a simple matter dependent on routine, it is all the more true regarding character traits (midos). If a child is prone to anger from childhood and is not guided properly, but left to develop this way in the hope that he will calm down when he grows up - the outcome will be precisely the opposite, for he has grown accustomed to anger and seen that his tantrums produce results.
A mashgiach at an outstanding yeshivah once noted, in a discussion about a certain necessary policy: "Matters today are not simple at all." When asked why, he explained: "Today parents are afraid of their children. A parent is reluctant to correct a child, saying: 'You don't know what he will do to me,' or 'Leave it, I would rather avoid the conflict...'" Hearing such admissions from parents is chilling. Is the parent governed by the child, or does the parent guide the child? This is not about tyrannical control, but rather: is there someone who gives direction and someone who receives it, or has the natural order been turned upside down?
When a parent becomes a servant to the child out of fear that "the child will make a scene," the child turns into the ruler and the parent becomes his puppet. What kind of education can be imparted under such circumstances? What is the child receiving? He senses that he controls the parent, that the parent fears him and will never reprimand him. The hierarchy in parenting must be completely clear: this is a father and this is a son; this is a mother and this is a daughter. When a child casts his fear and dread upon his parents, it turns family life into a nightmare. It may sound astonishing, but experienced educators confirm that this is a widespread and difficult reality. It highlights just how critical the hierarchy is.
This is precisely what the Imrei Shefer teaches: when a child is trained from early childhood that anger will achieve nothing, that screaming yields no gain - and on the contrary, only causes harm - and that nothing is accomplished through ultimatums, emotional blackmail, or threats of public embarrassment, he quickly learns that this is not the way. As he matures, he is already well-trained, his character refined, and he understands that anger impresses no one and that there are proper, accepted ways to attain what one needs. This is the meaning of "Your king is a youth": one must learn to govern his limbs and soul-powers from his youth, thereby directing all his desires along the proper path.
The Imrei Shefer continues and reflects on the phrase "Your officers feast in the morning." When one contemplates it, eating is inherently something of an embarrassment for man. One might wonder: what is shameful about eating? The Gemara enumerates matters in which man resembles an animal - he eats like an animal, sleeps like an animal, and reproduces like an animal - alongside qualities in which he resembles an angel, such as the power of speech. Notice that regarding all those areas in which man resembles an animal, no sensible person is willing to be filmed and documented while engaged in them.
Take the simplest example: eating. A person sits at a wedding, deeply engrossed in the chicken on his plate, and suddenly the photographer approaches. What does he do? He immediately sits up straight, raises his glass, and calls out: "Mazal tov, mazal tov!" Why not simply keep eating the chicken? No, absolutely not: "Please, do not photograph me." Even if he eats with dignity and good manners, he does not wish to be filmed. Conversely, if a photographer entered the study hall while he was deeply engrossed in intense Torah study, or standing in prayer during the Shemoneh Esrei, he would gladly say: "Send me a copy." There is no shame in being seen praying, learning, and fulfilling mitzvos; on the contrary, one is proud of it. But to be photographed while asleep? Absolutely not - who knows what facial expression one made or what noises were heard! Clearly, in every area where man resembles an animal, he feels a natural sense of shame and indignity, and does not want it documented.
Therefore, "Your officers feast in the morning" demonstrates just how coarse and animalistic they are. How do they begin their day? With a massive feast. Such a person possesses no control over his desires. For eating is an indignity to man, an activity wherein he resembles animals and creeping beasts of the earth. It is tolerated only because it is a necessity - a person must sustain his life. Noble individuals, therefore, do not crave this lowly bodily function; they set designated times for eating, limit what they consume, and do not eat without boundaries. Those lacking understanding, however, never withdraw their hands from swallowing; they sit eating all day long, pouncing upon food. These are beastly people who know nothing of any higher purpose, whose entire objective is merely to fill their bellies. Thus they rise early in the morning to feast - this is their sole focus and goal.
Incidentally, one can see here the loftiness of the Torah's perspective. Our Sages learned from the verses that a person does not wake up in the morning to eat. A Jew does not wake up in the morning to eat; the very first thing is prayer. What subjugation of the evil inclination this requires, and what a clear hierarchy of values it establishes: first pray for your spirituality, for your very existence, and begin the day with that. A person who begins his day with a cup of coffee and a pastry - are you an animal? Are you not a portion of G-d from above? Why begin your day in such a coarse, physical manner? According to Kabbalah, this is strictly forbidden: even if one wakes up at two in the morning, it is entirely forbidden to eat, and whoever eats is considered as if he threw a stone to Merkulis (an idol) and burned incense to idolatry, Heaven forbid. One sees the clear demand: the day is not begun in animalistic indulgence. The day begins with spirituality - Birkot HaShachar (the morning blessings), tefillin, sanctification; and once you have finished, a person needs to eat, and then one eats.
Thus, the question of "when does he eat" reveals one's scale of values, what is important to him, and what is central to his life. "And your ministers eat in due season" - they take food solely to sustain the body, and their leadership is "for strength, and not for drunkenness." "Sheti" (drunkenness) here is from the word for drinking: there are people who are "champions" at drinking, and in their world, someone who can hold his wine is considered a hero, while someone who cannot drink is considered a nobody. In their eyes, drinking was regarded as a type of might and virtue. To this the verse responds: no. The ministers act "for strength, and not for drunkenness" - in the strength of Torah and not in drinking; their might and their authority do not lie in this. And who are these people? "Happy are you, O land, when your king is a free man" - a person who rules over his passions, rather than his passions ruling over him.
The Malbim explains that a "ben chorim" (free man / noble) is a nobleman descended from the royal lineage. "Chorim" refers to those of royal stock from whom the king would be chosen, and these ministers were inherently independent and free men. In modern terms: people of noble blood who, even if they currently hold no official office, are kings by nature. This is the quality of a ben chorin.
And this is also the definition of a Torah scholar. Our Sages say, "There is no truly free man except one who engages in Torah," and "Who are the kings? The Rabbis." Why are Torah scholars called kings, even if not a single person follows their instructions? Because he is a true free man, a true king. And how does his kingship manifest? In that he rules over his desires and his appetites - that is what expresses his kingship.
בַּעֲצַלְתַּיִם יִמַּךְ הַמְּקָרֶה וּבְשִׁפְלוּת יָדַיִם יִדְלֹף הַבָּיִת׃ - Through slothfulness the ceiling sinks, and through idleness of hands the house leaks.
The plain meaning of the verse, as Rashi explains, is that when a person is lazy and does not repair a minor breach in the ceiling of his home, ultimately "the ceiling sinks." We are all familiar with this reality: a small defect that, had it been repaired in time, would have solved the problem, but it was left unattended; it progressively worsened, caused rot and decay, until the entire ceiling must be replaced. Had the leak been fixed on time, there would have been no rot and no multiplying leak. "And through idleness of hands" - when your hands are slack and neglect to do what is necessary, "the house leaks," and rainwater will pour in.
Clearly, Shlomo did not come merely to offer structural advice in construction - how to repair roofs, seal cracks, and prevent leaks; one does not need the wisdom of Shlomo for that. Therefore, our Sages applied these words to numerous homiletic interpretations. Rashi himself cites: when Israel are slothful in Torah study, they sink low, and this is "Through slothfulness the ceiling sinks." And what is "and through idleness of hands the house leaks"? "And the house of their pride and strength was destroyed and desolated" - the house is the Beit HaMikdash (the Holy Temple). When we are lazy in Torah study and do not fulfill the mitzvot of Hashem, the House is destroyed.
The Gemara in Taanit (folio 7b) states: Rav Ketina said, rains are withheld only on account of the neglect of Torah study, as it is stated, "Through slothfulness the ceiling sinks." And how is this connected to Torah? Rav Ketina explains: because of the laziness that was in Israel, that they did not engage in Torah study, the enemy of the Holy One, blessed be He, becomes impoverished. "The enemy of the Holy One, blessed be He" is a euphemism for the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself, so as not to speak disparagingly, G-d forbid. And "makh" (sinks / becomes low) means nothing other than poor, as it is stated, "And if he is poorer [makh] than your valuation," and "koreh" (ceiling / beam) refers to none other than the Holy One, blessed be He, as it is stated, "Who lays the beams [hamkareh] of His upper chambers in the waters."
Thus, through slothfulness, the power of the Holy One, blessed be He, is, as it were, weakened. And of course, as we have studied at length in Nefesh HaChaim, this does not refer to His Essence, G-d forbid - that is entirely inapplicable. Rather, as we discuss, there are dimensions that bring darkness into the Sefirot, so that the Sefirot do not radiate their light, and consequently the divine bounty does not flow downward. This stems directly from our own actions and shortcomings. Furthermore, we have learned that "yimakh" means that the divine bounty is diverted to the kelipot (forces of impurity) - "a maidservant who dispossesses her mistress" - the forces of impurity receive that very bounty, and this is the meaning of "the ceiling sinks."
Pesikta Zutarta offers another homiletical reading of the verse: "Through indolence the ceiling sinks" - one who does not cover his head properly will suffer from headaches; "and through slackness of hands" - one who does not dry his head thoroughly after leaving the bathhouse, "the house leaks" - referring again to the head, meaning it will break out in sores. And this too, as noted, is merely an allegory.
Yet the primary Midrash applies this to the people of Israel: because they failed to do teshuvah, they were brought low, as it is said: "And he removed the covering of Judah; and you looked on that day toward the weaponry of the Forest House" - meaning they were driven into exile. And why? Because they did not do teshuvah; consequently, "the ceiling sinks" - they were brought low in exile. "And through slackness of hands" in failing to repent, "the house leaks", as it is written: "For behold, the Lord commands, and the great house shall be smitten into splinters" - this is "the house leaks", referring to the Beit HaMikdash.
King Solomon sets two kingdoms before us: a land whose king is a youth - a servant to the yetzer hara, a slave to his passions, whose day begins with feasting and whose strength is spent in drinking; and a land whose king is a free man - truly a sovereign in his own right, bowed by no external pressure, eating at the proper time, whose strength is the strength of Torah, fighting not for the sake of victory but in pursuit of truth. As we have seen in the Alshich, in Imrei Shefer, and in the Malbim, these words refer first and foremost to man himself, who is a small city whose limbs and faculties are its ministers: if he rules over them from his youth, fortunate is he; but if he is dragged along after them, he is a slave. And the final verse concludes with a warning: "Through indolence the ceiling sinks" - indolence in Torah and teshuvah, like a small breach left unrepaired in time, ends in drought, in exile, and in the destruction of the Temple.