Introduction: Wisdom's Call in the Streets
At the end of Chapter 1, Shlomo HaMelech describes Wisdom going out into the streets and crying aloud: "At the entrances of the gates in the city, she utters her sayings." Wisdom does not hide away in palaces; she stands at the head of bustling thoroughfares and calls out to mankind. And what does she say? She addresses three types of people, admonishing - or warning - each one according to his way.
Three Levels: The Simpleton, the Scorner, and the Fool
עַד־מָתַי פְּתָיִם תְּאֵהֲבוּ־פֶתִי וְלֵצִים לָצוֹן חָמְדוּ לָהֶם וּכְסִילִים יִשְׂנְאוּ־דָעַת׃ - How long, you simple ones, will you love simplicity, and scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge?
Three archetypes appear in a single verse: the simple love simplicity, scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge. What is the difference between them? The peti (simpleton) is someone devoid of mature judgment who is easily seduced. Everything looks pleasant and appealing to him, and he is drawn right after it. He does not sin out of heresy, nor even out of overwhelming lust, but simply out of a lack of discernment. Therefore, Wisdom asks: How long will you love being naive and devoid of understanding? After all, it is Wisdom that grants prudence to the simple - that calculated, measured caution not to rush blindly after whatever the yetzer hara proposes.
The letz (scorner) is on a different level: he mocks Wisdom. Why? Because Wisdom does not rely on empirical proofs; it has no mathematical demonstrations. For how can one mathematically prove the correct path - generosity or frugality? Cruelty or compassion? Frequently one path is correct, and frequently the exact opposite is correct, and this is precisely why Wisdom is necessary. It is impossible to prove with absolute empirical evidence when to show mercy and when to be stern. Wisdom is received through tradition: from the holy Torah, from the Prophets, from the Sages, from the Creator of the world. While it is true that we can demonstrate the truth of the Torah - that is another matter - compelling someone through formal logic that here one must love and there one must hate, here show mercy and there be firm, is simply impossible. For this reason, the scorners delight in mockery: they claim that you have no empirical proof for the moral conviction you speak of.
The ksil (fool) is an entirely different category. A ksil can be brilliant, strikingly intelligent, a professor, or a scientist - yet Shlomo HaMelech still calls him a fool. What is a ksil? A person who rejects Wisdom because of his heart's desires. If you tell him, "Such an action is immoral," he replies, "I know, but I feel like it." His "I feel like it" is no different from that of an uneducated person, except that he wraps it in a more respectable package. And that "I feel like it" transforms even the greatest intellect into a fool.
It turns out that the ksil is worse than the letz. The scorner does not hate knowledge; he merely demands proof. But the fool hates knowledge, because knowledge obstructs him from indulging his desires. Wisdom acts as a barrier, placing a bridle on the passions of his heart, and he refuses to be restrained - which is why he hates it. Yet he does not mock it, for deep down he knows it is true; he simply hates it.
Three Offers of Wisdom
תָּשׁוּבוּ לְתוֹכַחְתִּי הִנֵּה אַבִּיעָה לָכֶם רוּחִי אוֹדִיעָה דְבָרַי אֶתְכֶם׃ - Turn to my reproof; behold, I will pour out my spirit to you, I will make my words known to you.
There are three stages here. "Turn to my reproof" - tochachah relates to debate and proof; Wisdom comes to prove the justice and uprightness of her words. "Behold, I will pour out my spirit to you" - I will flow within you like a bubbling spring, to teach you the laws of the Torah and its fundamental truths. "I will make my words known to you" - I will inform you of the punishment designated for one who abandons Wisdom, for "my words" (devarai) implies harsh speech and also governance: showing how terrible and bitter is the penalty of one who forsakes Wisdom.
Verbal Refusal versus Internal Reluctance
יַעַן קָרָאתִי וַתְּמָאֵנוּ נָטִיתִי יָדִי וְאֵין מַקְשִׁיב׃ וַתִּפְרְעוּ כׇל־עֲצָתִי וְתוֹכַחְתִּי לֹא אֲבִיתֶם׃ - Because I called and you refused, I stretched out My hand and no one paid heed; you cast aside all My counsel, and would have none of My reproof.
The Malbim distinguishes between me'un (verbal refusal) and bilti avah (lack of inner desire), a principle he repeats in several places: one who refuses (mema'en) does so with the mouth, saying, "No, I do not want to." The one who is unwilling (bilti avah) is unwilling in the heart - his heart does not desire the matter. These two do not necessarily go together: there is someone who refuses with his mouth while his heart actually desires it, and there is someone whose heart is completely unwilling yet does not refuse verbally, whether out of embarrassment or for any other reason.
Based on this, the verse becomes clear. "Because I called and you refused" - the calling is the counsel of wisdom, saying to man: Come and hear what I have to tell you. To this call itself, the heart is actually receptive; the heart agrees that there is truth in the counsel of wisdom - that when wisdom says to be strict here and merciful there, frugal here and generous there, detached here and actively engaged there, it speaks the truth. Therefore, the verse only says "and you refused" - a refusal with the mouth alone. And why does he refuse? Because it is difficult for him to give up his heart's desires. Whom is the verse speaking of here? The kesil (fool), for the kesil knows the truth. It is not speaking of the scorner (leitz) who demands, "Where is the proof?", but of the kesil who knows, yet says, "I don't feel like it." This "I don't feel like it" is "and you refused" - with the mouth; but in his heart, he knows this is the truth.
However, reproof (tochechah), which is the fear of punishment - in the sense that Hashem rebukes and chastises him - this he is not willing to accept even in his heart. For if there is truly a punishment, how can one continue pursuing the desires of his heart? Therefore, he is unwilling to accept it from the outset, and this is "and you would have none of My reproof": to the very principles of wisdom you are willing in your heart and refuse only with your mouth, but the reproof and chastisements for those who forsake the path of wisdom you do not accept even in your heart. Had he accepted this in his heart, he would not have refused with his mouth, for he would have feared Hashem's punishments.
Parallel Clauses of the Verse
The Malbim applies here the rule of parallel clauses: when there are four clauses, the first clause connects to the third, and the second connects to the fourth - like two lines written one above the other, where the continuation of each lies directly beneath it. So it is here: "Because I called and you refused" refers to the counsel of wisdom, which advises a person to walk in the good way, and concerning this it says later, "you cast aside all My counsel" - I have good counsel for you, so why do you do the opposite? In contrast, "I stretched out My hand and no one paid heed" - stretching out a hand is like raising a hand to strike, meaning a threat and a rebuke invoking the fear of punishment: Beware, whoever strays from the paths of wisdom will ultimately be punished - and concerning this it says, "and would have none of My reproof," meaning that you are unwilling to accept My reproof, which corresponds to "and no one paid heed."
Laughter and Mockery, Calamity and Fear
גַּם־אֲנִי בְּאֵידְכֶם אֶשְׂחָק אֶלְעַג בְּבֹא פַחְדְּכֶם׃ - I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your dread arrives.
What is the difference between eid (calamity) and pachad (fear or dread)? Eid is the disaster itself - as in the expression "rejoicing at his calamity" (same'ach le'eido), meaning taking joy in his distress, his ruin, or his downfall. Fear, says the Malbim, is that which precedes the disaster: fear arises from the unknown, and when something is unknown, a person is terrified. Furthermore, mockery (la'ag) is harsher than laughter (sechok) - mocking is always more severe than merely laughing. Therefore Wisdom says: At the calamity, at the disaster itself, "I will laugh" - for did I not warn you? But at the fear, which is even more terrifying and comes before the disaster - even before the disaster arrives, when I see you trembling and fearful of it, already then "I will mock."
בְּבֹא כְשׁוֹאָה פַּחְדְּכֶם וְאֵידְכֶם כְּסוּפָה יֶאֱתֶה בְּבֹא עֲלֵיכֶם צָרָה וְצוּקָה׃ - When your dread comes like darkness, and your calamity arrives like a storm; when distress and anguish come upon you.
Here the verse elaborates. "When your dread comes like darkness" - fear will come like a shoah, like darkness; for in the dark, fear intensifies, because uncertainty and insecurity are greater - one cannot see where he is going and cannot discern the direction. "And your calamity arrives like a storm" - immediately after the fear, which arose from the darkness, obscurity, and unclear reality, the disaster itself will come with great speed, like a tempest.
Notice the change in wording: initially "when it comes" (bevo), and at the end "shall arrive" (ye'eteh). Seemingly they mean the same thing - as in "When is the Master coming" (eimatai ka'ati mar), "morning comes" (ata voker), "nobles shall come from Egypt" (ye'etayu chashmanim mi-Mitzrayim), and likewise the trope marks azla ve'asai, which mean going and coming. However, there is a difference, says the Malbim: the root ata indicates an arrival that is absolute, whereas ba is not yet absolute. Therefore, initially, "when your dread comes like darkness" - it is not yet clear, it is a dread of something undefined; and afterwards, "and your calamity arrives like a storm" - here it is already definite, the disaster has arrived, and its coming is unmistakable.
"When distress and anguish come upon you": The Malbim consistently explains that distress (tzarah) is external, while anguish (tzukah) is internal torment. Even today, people speak of "youth in distress," not meaning someone is harassing them from the outside, but that they are broken from within. When there is external trouble while internally a person remains steadfast and strong, all is well; he has the strength to overcome it. But when external distress is accompanied by internal anguish, and a person breaks down emotionally, he loses all hope of healing and recovering his former state. And this is what Wisdom says: one who does not walk in the ways of wisdom, but goes astray after the desires of his heart, will ultimately find that distress and anguish come upon him.
From the Kesil to the Evil and the Peti
אָז יִקְרָאֻנְנִי וְלֹא אֶעֱנֶה יְשַׁחֲרֻנְנִי וְלֹא יִמְצָאֻנְנִי׃ - Then they will call upon me, but I will not answer; they will seek me diligently, but they will not find me.
At first, wisdom is still close to them and they call to her: "Come, answer us, save us" - "but I will not answer." Afterward, she distances herself from them as well: "They will seek me diligently, but they will not find me," for leshacher means to search with even greater intensity, and nonetheless they will not be able to find her. The Malbim explains that the first part of the verse deals with the kesilim - those who know wisdom but are drawn after the desires of their heart. From there, however, a person deteriorates to the level of the evil, who is no longer certain of the rules of wisdom, or to the level of the peta'im (simpletons), who do not know their right hand from their left. The peti is enticed by the desires of his heart and does not know at all that there is wisdom instructing him what to do and warning, "My son, if sinners entice you, do not consent"; this wisdom is completely unfamiliar to him. And the evil is the doubter - from the root of ulai ("perhaps"): perhaps yes and perhaps no; these are the skeptics who cast doubt on everything.
Hatred of Knowledge and Choosing the Fear of Hashem
תַּחַת כִּי־שָׂנְאוּ דָעַת וְיִרְאַת יְהֹוָה לֹא בָחָרוּ׃ - Because they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of Hashem.
Who is the one who hates knowledge? The scorner does not hate knowledge; he merely claims there is no proof. The simpleton knows nothing, so why should he hate it? The hater is the kesil: he knows everything, but is not interested, because he wants to follow the desires of his heart. Knowledge restricts him, telling him "do not do this" - and he knows that it is right, knows that wisdom is truth - and therefore he hates it.
Here we return to the question: if wisdom does not have demonstrable proofs and cannot be proven logically, how can one nonetheless arrive at clear knowledge of it? The path is through mussar, meaning through the fear of Hashem. When a person knows that the Torah was given by the Almighty, and that everything Moshe Rabbeinu says is from the mouth of the Almighty, the wisdom learned from him becomes for that person an axiom, something clear and self-evident, and that serves as his greatest proof. It is like a trustworthy person who tells you something and you trust him one hundred percent: although you only heard it from him, what he told you is an absolute certainty to you, as if you had seen it with your own eyes. In this way, through the fear of Hashem, one attains clear knowledge in the ways of wisdom - that this is how one ought to act - and the matter settles upon his heart and becomes clear knowledge.
And this is what the verse means: had they possessed fear of God, they would have reached the level of knowledge (da'at) in wisdom, even though wisdom itself cannot be demonstrated through logical proof. But "they did not choose the fear of Hashem" - that very fear which would bring them to knowledge and the attainment of wisdom is something they do not desire. If so, how can they reach wisdom? In his heart, he knows that wisdom is true, but he prefers to resist it and follow the desires of his heart, and therefore he hates knowledge. People tell him: "Come, there are proofs, there is evidence" - but he refuses, precisely because deep down he knows there is truth in it.
We see this even today. You try to bring someone to a shiur or a lecture to hear a rabbi, and he responds: "Leave me alone, I know all about it; I don't have time; I'm going through a rough patch; I'm busy and working hard." How many excuses he will make, just so long as he does not have to come! And why? Because he knows the truth is there, and he knows someone will tell him something deeply demanding, and he knows that afterward it will be very difficult for him to continue pursuing the desires of his heart. So what does he prefer? To hate knowledge: "Leave it, I don't want to hear it, I can't stand it" - because it restricts me, binds me, and obligates me.
From this comes an important insight: the loudest opponents are usually the ones who later return in teshuvah the fastest. Why do you shout so much? Why do you hate knowledge? Because deep down you know it is true and that it obligates you, and therefore you fight back. After all, if someone were told of some nonsense in the world, why would he care? Would he go and fight against it? Is the world lacking nonsense? Everyone has their own nonsense. But something I feel touches me, something that makes demands of me, obligates me, and contains truth - that is what I fight against, because otherwise I feel bad about myself. Those who fight the hardest are usually those whose hearts are touched by it; they know that the truth is here, that wisdom is the truth - and this is the kesil. And he fails to act only because "they did not choose the fear of Hashem": had he chosen the fear of Hashem, he would have accepted wisdom as an absolute truth requiring no proof, in the realm of clear knowledge. But he is driven by his impulses - his "I feel like it" - and that whim prevents him from acting; if only that "I feel like it" were removed, everything would be so much simpler.
Dying for Kiddush Hashem and Living for Kiddush Hashem
The holy Ohr HaChaim writes: Wicked people testified before me and said - we are ready to give up our lives for the sanctification of Hashem's Name and die in a single moment, to repent and die immediately; but to repent and live from now on as an observant, God-fearing Jew - that is beyond our strength. And understand what this means: I know it is true, and I am even willing to die for Kiddush Hashem - I will repent and let them take me. But to wake up tomorrow morning and begin struggling, putting on tefillin, overcoming anger here, pride there, greed here, a forbidden gaze there - no, that is not for me. The masters of mussar have already said that it is much easier to die for Kiddush Hashem than to live for Kiddush Hashem: to die - you jump from the roof and it is over; to live for Kiddush Hashem means yielding a desire at every single moment, giving up everything I desire, want, and crave. That requires a genuine struggle, investment, and effort.
Spurning Counsel and Reproof
לֹא־אָבוּ לַעֲצָתִי נָאֲצוּ כׇּל־תּוֹכַחְתִּי׃ - They would not accept my counsel; they spurned all my reproof.
"My counsel" refers to the advice wisdom provides: conduct yourself according to what I establish for you, according to the holy Torah. Sometimes it offers advice through intellect - it is worthwhile for you, it pays off, I am persuading you rationally; and sometimes it rebukes - if you do not do this, there is also punishment. Here, they have reached a state where they are unwilling to accept even the counsel inwardly, and the rebuke they utterly spurn: they are told there is punishment, and they answer - nonsense, there is no such thing.
וְיֹאכְלוּ מִפְּרִי דַרְכָּם וּמִמֹּעֲצֹתֵיהֶם יִשְׂבָּעוּ׃ - Therefore they shall eat of the fruit of their own way, and be sated with their own schemes.
And what will be their end? What you sow, you reap. "Therefore they shall eat of the fruit of their own way" - they will receive their punishment for the fruit of their path, for the fruits that grew out of their flawed and corrupt way. "And be sated with their own schemes" - they despised the counsel of wisdom and chose their own counsel, and therefore they will be sated with these schemes, meaning they will be filled with bitterness from them. Notice the precision: eating is small compared to being sated. "They shall eat of the fruit of their own way" - this is the punishment for the action itself; but "with their own schemes they will be sated" - when a person does not merely commit evil but builds a counsel for it, an entire ideology that rationally justifies contriving schemes against the Torah, his punishment grows manifold, and satiety is far greater than mere eating.
The Waywardness of the Simple and the Complacency of Fools
כִּי מְשׁוּבַת פְּתָיִם תַּהַרְגֵם וְשַׁלְוַת כְּסִילִים תְּאַבְּדֵם׃ - For the waywardness of the simple shall kill them, and the complacency of fools shall destroy them.
The simple do not know the laws of wisdom at all and do not recognize it - one has not learned, does not know, does not understand. "The waywardness of the simple" - a wayward person is one who walks in the stubbornness of his heart, undisciplined, following his impulses. And what you do not know will not spare you from punishment and harm: true, your status is lighter than that of the fool, who knows yet follows the desires of his heart, but ultimately it will kill you. In contrast, fools know the laws of wisdom and recognize it; they are not mere wayward youths walking in stubbornness of heart, but rather turn aside from wisdom's paths because of lusts - he seeks serenity, the desires of this world and its pleasures. The complacency of fools is worse than the waywardness of the simple.
Therefore, the Malbim notes the exact shift in phrasing: "shall kill them" is less severe than "shall destroy them." To kill is to take one's soul, whereas to destroy is to leave no trace whatsoever - "to destroy, to slay, and to annihilate." "And the complacency of fools shall destroy them" - no remnant will be left of them, neither in this world nor in the World to Come. The simple, however - "shall kill them" in this world, but we do not say they have no share in the World to Come; they do have a share, because the simple sin inadvertently, since they did not know and did not learn. But the fool knows and follows the desires of his heart; therefore regarding him Scripture says "shall destroy them," a far more severe blow.
He Who Listens to Me Shall Dwell Securely
וְשֹׁמֵעַ לִי יִשְׁכׇּן־בֶּטַח וְשַׁאֲנַן מִפַּחַד רָעָה׃ - But whoever listens to me shall dwell securely, and shall be at ease without dread of evil.
In contrast to all of these, Wisdom says: whoever listens to me and trusts in his heart the wisdom she has taught him is assured that he will dwell securely and be tranquil from fear of evil. Wisdom will guard him from all fear, and no harm will come to him, because he has the wisdom of the Torah directing him. And what is the difference between "secure" (botei'ach) and "tranquil" (shaanan)? One who is secure trusts in his own strength - this is an internal matter: I have strength and I rely upon it. One who is tranquil is someone whom nothing disturbs from the outside, who harbors no worries that someone might come along and harm him. The one who heeds Wisdom is confident in his heart in his wisdom, for it always leads him on the right path.
We once explained why a truly happy person is called me'usher (blessed / approved): when an appliance passes inspection, it is stamped me'usher - it has received official approval. And the genuinely happy person is one who does everything in his life with complete confidence, knowing his actions bear divine approval. When a person acts solely on his own judgment, he may very well be mistaken. But when I do what the Torah said - the Torah said, wake up in the morning and put on tefillin, and I did as it commanded - do I have any doubt about it? And I am confident that I will receive a good reward for it. Such a person is both secure and truly happy, because every action he takes carries an authoritative seal of approval. In contrast, someone who lives entirely on his own without Torah is constantly fraught with doubts and second-guessing: Am I doing the right thing or not? And it is possible that after sixty years he will say, "Oops, I was wrong" - and those years are already gone. But one who took every step according to what the holy Torah said never has an "oops." And what if he does not know? He asks the sage, who possesses Da'as Torah, and he will guide him on what to do. Such a person will undoubtedly dwell securely.
It is told that at the funeral of the wife of Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, he was told that it is customary for a husband to ask forgiveness from his wife before the burial, in case he treated her unfairly or acted improperly. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman answered them: I do not need to ask her for forgiveness, because I never behaved toward her in any way contrary to Halachah. Only a great person like him could say such a thing. And does this mean they never had disagreements? Quite possibly they did have disagreements, but his conduct was always strictly according to halachic guidelines. And when a person conducts himself with others according to what Halachah dictates, he has no need to ask for forgiveness: the Torah instructed how to behave, and I did what was required.
On the other hand, someone who constantly asks himself whether he is acting properly, whether he is investing properly, whether he is living properly, is perpetually plagued by doubts and eaten up from the inside, not knowing the answer. But when one is told: this is what you must do and this is what Hashem commands - how fortunate he is! And from here one can also understand why the "baba industry" flourishes: when someone goes to a rav, he will not always receive a definitive answer as to whether to open this business; some rabbis might say, "It is up to your discretion," without giving a clear-cut verdict. So he goes to a "baba" - and this man tells him with absolute certainty: Open it and you will succeed, or do not open it, and if you open it you will lose money. He claims to know everything: this couple will marry and have children, that couple will not marry, and if they marry they will not have children; as though he checked in Heaven and knows what is decreed for everyone. Yet all of this is vanity, foolishness, and deception. Why, then, do people still go? Because we crave for someone to tell us with certainty yes or no, in an absolute way - and that brings calm: I married whom the Creator of the world told me to marry, and now I am at peace. That is the illusion they sell. But when one comes to a true talmid chacham, to a tzaddik, he says: Look, if you have checked, inquired, and investigated - may Hashem help that this is your match and that you truly succeed. He does not approach you with fabricated certainty or sell you falsehoods about things he cannot know. Uncertainty and doubt constantly burden a person and make his life difficult - and therefore, "one who listens to me will dwell securely and be tranquil from fear of evil."
In summary: Wisdom calls out in the open places to three types of people: the simpleton (peti) who is seduced due to a lack of knowledge; the scorner (leitz) who scoffs because wisdom lacks empirical proofs; and the fool (kesil) who knows the truth yet hates knowledge because it restricts the desires of his heart. The fool refuses with his mouth even though his heart consented to the counsel of Wisdom, and rebuke - the fear of punishment - he does not accept even in his heart. The end of the refuser is that Wisdom will mock when his dread comes and laugh at his calamity; terror will come upon him like devastation and calamity like a whirlwind, distress from without and anguish from within; then he will call and will not be answered, he will search early and will not find. The root of it all: "They did not choose the fear of Hashem" - for only fear transforms wisdom into clear knowledge. In contrast to them, one who listens to the wisdom of the Torah and conducts his life by its light enjoys a life that is blessed and validated in the deepest sense: he has approval for all his deeds, and therefore "he will dwell securely and be tranquil from fear of evil."