Introduction
In chapter 22, we arrive at one of the most famous verses in the Book of Mishlei - a verse that even someone who has never studied Mishlei knows well: "Train a youth according to his way." Countless lectures on education are built around this verse, and both the Rishonim and Acharonim explained it in several ways. We will examine the words of Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Rabbeinu Yonah, the Vilna Gaon, and the Malbim, and see how each of them opens a unique window into the work of chinuch (education).
"Train a Youth According to His Way" - The Plain Meaning
חֲנֹךְ לַנַּעַר עַל־פִּי דַרְכּוֹ גַּם כִּי־יַזְקִין לֹא־יָסוּר מִמֶּנָּה׃ (משלי כב, ו) - "Train a youth according to his way; even when he grows old, he will not depart from it" (Mishlei 22:6).
Unfortunately, our generation has turned this verse into a bitter joke: some have quipped that in light of knife violence among youth, the verse has become "Train a youth according to his stabber"; while another said that nowadays, as soon as a boy is weaned and reaches his bar mitzvah, he is already looking for a flight abroad - "Train a youth according to his passport" (a play on darko and darkon). This reflects the reality of our generation. But let us return to the plain meaning of the text.
Rashi explains: According to what you teach the youth and train him in things - whether for good or for bad - even when he grows old, he will not depart from it. Ibn Ezra explains that chanoch means instruction and training, as in the phrase "and he armed his trained disciples (chanichav)" (Bereishis 14:14), meaning his youths who were trained in warfare. Education is habituation and learning, and its result endures not only during youth but also in old age: even when he grows old, he will not depart from it.
Rabbeinu Yonah: Two Advantages of Youth
Rabbeinu Yonah asks: Why is the emphasis specifically on "Train a youth"? He answers that in youth, we have two major advantages. The first advantage: a youth is receptive. When a person is young, it is easy for him to absorb and easy for him to change; he has not yet formed a fixed system, path, or lifestyle, making it easy to impart to him character traits, conduct, and ways of living. The second advantage: he has not yet acquired fixed habits that have become second nature. For example, one can train a young child not to smoke, but when he is thirty years old and you try to convince him to stop, it is already extremely difficult - he is already addicted.
Furthermore, in adulthood, it is naturally difficult to change. An older person finds it hard to change his ways, whereas when a person is young, he can be gradually habituated, and the habit becomes second nature. As the saying goes, "Habit rules over everything." When a person gets used to something, that habit takes dominion over him. This can be very beneficial, or it can be very harmful. It is beneficial when one becomes accustomed to doing good: a person who is used to waking up every morning at sunrise to pray is guided by a habit that rules him for good - he has placed a positive habit in charge of himself. On the other hand, it can work in the exact opposite direction.
Particularly, says Rabbeinu Yonah, in old age it is exceedingly difficult to change one's nature. Try changing an elderly person - "What are you talking about? I have done it this way for seventy years, and you are coming now to tell me otherwise?" Try inspiring an elderly person to do complete teshuvah - it is one of the hardest things in the world. It may be that as a person ages, he attends synagogue a little more, and his desires gradually wane, but how many elderly people do you know who attended an outreach seminar and returned home with tefillin, regular prayer, and Shabbat observance? That is no longer an age of radical change. A person at that age feels set in his reality, and it requires tremendous effort and immense toil to uproot his ways from their core.
Therefore, Rabbeinu Yonah explains, we are commanded to admonish and guide the youth. Why? Because the power of his intellect is not yet mature. A youth does not know exactly what to do, nor does he understand much; he therefore needs someone to guide him on the upright path. An adult possesses a developed intellect and might reach the correct conclusions on his own, but a youth - in the reckless years of adolescence - does not yet have deep understanding and has not reached intellectual maturity. Furthermore, his innate nature is not good on its own: "the inclination of man's heart is evil from his youth" (Bereishis 8:21), and "man is born a wild donkey's colt" (Iyov 11:12). Leave a person to grow without education and without guidance, and you will get a wild beast. Thus, on the one hand, you must straighten him, because his base natures are flawed; on the other hand, he is receptive, and one can persuade him and lead him onto the upright path; and finally, he lacks the self-contained wisdom to discern the right path on his own. All this compels us to step forward and educate the youth.
The Parable of Straightening the Branch
Rabbeinu Yonah cites a parable for this, writing: "They have already given a parable for this from the straightening of a branch (se'if)." At first glance, this expression might seem puzzling - what section or clause (se'if)? Section B, Section C? And what repair? Checking different manuscripts and editions of Rabbeinu Yonah reveals that all of them read "tikkun hase'if." The answer is simple, though easily overlooked: se'if means a branch, as in boughs or offshoots. Then everything becomes clear. If a young sapling is planted crooked, it will grow crooked. But as long as it is small, a stake is placed beside it so that it grows straight, and once it grows straight, nothing can move it later. Yet if it has even a slight bend at the beginning, it grows crooked and can no longer be repaired afterward. In exactly the same way, it is very difficult to reform someone who has already grown old.
This is why Shlomo juxtaposed this verse to the preceding one: "Thorns and snares are in the path of the perverse." One who is crooked and seeks devious paths will encounter thorns. Therefore, begin educating from a young age, for at a young age there are still no thorns; as a person matures, that is where the thorns begin.
Marrying Off Children When They Come of Age
Based on this very principle, reality proves that it is best to marry people off when they are young. Many say: "Why do I need a burden right now? I want to keep learning, I want to accomplish other things." They are confident that whenever they are ready, it will simply be waiting for them - that at age twenty-eight or thirty, a spouse comes made-to-order. But in reality, as a person gets older, they become picky, and one cannot argue with reality. A young person who receives a suggestion is far more flexible, willing to listen and compromise; an older person has already met several prospective matches, constantly compares, and becomes increasingly particular.
Even if one finds a match and marries, at an older age it is harder to adapt, for the two reasons mentioned earlier. First: each partner is already set in their ways. Each has a lifestyle and established habits; he is not a seventeen-year-old boy but a thirty-year-old man, and she likewise. Second: as a person matures, they become rigid and far less open to change. After all, getting married requires making adjustments and adapting to one another, and here lies the difficulty: not only do I have my own way, but I am also set in it. Therefore, the likelihood of a successful marriage at an older age is generally lower.
This can be seen particularly in a second marriage (zivug sheni), where divorce rates are significantly higher. First of all, in a second marriage people compromise, whereas in a first marriage they looked for the absolute best. There was once a man who divorced, and the shadchan came to him with a suggestion - and who was the match? His own ex-wife! He said, "I want to look into it and hear more." After making inquiries, he said, "All right, I'll go for it." They met, and he agreed to remarry her. People asked him, "What happened? You divorced this woman just two years ago!" He replied, "Listen, my friend, for a second marriage, she's fine. For a first marriage one looks for who-knows-what, but for a second marriage one compromises." Someone once quipped about this: What is the sign of a fool? The Gemara says, "Who is considered a fool? One who throws something away and it returns to him" - sometimes that is not a good sign.
We see, then, several stumbling blocks: the person already has their own habits and is rigid in them, and in addition - once a person has divorced once, it no longer feels like the end of the world. He is already marked as a divorcee, so what difference does it make if he is divorced twice? Before a first divorce, a person hesitates with great dread, whereas afterward he tells himself: "I walked away from my first wife when I had so much to lose, so with this one, whom I have only been with for a year - it's clear this isn't it." But if someone is constantly worried that "this isn't it," why would he think a third or fourth marriage will be "it"? He will always find fault, and there will always be something displeasing. Naturally, there are extreme situations where one party is unbearable, and we are not speaking of those; but in ordinary circumstances, when someone is searching for a perfect fit - why assume a second spouse will be a better match? On the contrary, one has already grown accustomed to this package; in another package, one never knows what unpleasant surprises will pop out. Here, the flaws are already familiar, and one has learned how to live with them and navigate them, whereas the chances of finding something better elsewhere are usually slim. The statistics bear this out.
The same applies to shidduchim in general. Unfortunately, one sees that those who marry off their children early - the young man from yeshivah and the young woman from seminary - build, thank God, a home founded on fear of Heaven. But when things are delayed, suddenly she wants to pursue academic studies, he finds something else to occupy himself, they begin going out into the world and having their eyes opened, and suddenly the skirt gets shorter, the young man stops wearing a hat, a year or two later he stops wearing a jacket, and then he is wearing jeans - and the boy is lost, and the girl is lost. What happened? They were not married off in time. The Gemara states that one must marry off his sons and daughters close to their maturity. Do not leave them exposed, for our generation is a generation fraught with the yetzer hara.
Take, for example, a young woman from our community who was seen dressed in a thoroughly compromised manner. She was twenty-eight years old. Years earlier, when she was twenty, a match had been suggested for her, and back then she would only hear of a boy from Slobodka - meaning the strictest, most diligent, serious Torah scholars, with their peyos worn out; not Chevron and not any other yeshivah, but exclusively a dedicated ben Torah. At the time, she wore only buttoned-up, collared blouses, a veritable "Sarah Schenirer" type. One could hardly believe this was the same girl. What happened? She went through the shidduch process, date after date fell through, and slowly, step by step, she arrived at where she is today. How heartbreaking it is. In that case the parents were not to blame; they tried and suggested matches, and the outcome was beyond their control. Yet what this demonstrates is that every effort must be made to marry children off young. When they marry young, foolish notions have not yet entered their heads, and then: "Train a lad according to his way; even when he grows old, he will not depart from it." But if matters are left to drift, they eventually spin out of control, and it is no longer in one's hands.
The Vilna Gaon: "According to His Way" - According to His Constellation and Nature
The Vilna Gaon explains that "according to his way" means according to his constellation (mazal), for a person cannot break his inherent nature - the innate disposition under which he was born. He cites the Gemara: one born under Jupiter (Tzedek) will be a righteous person (tzadkan), while one born under a negative constellation will tend toward the opposite. Yet this is not absolute, for it is within his power to channel that same drive in whatever direction he chooses. The Gemara says: one born under Mars (Ma'adim) will be a shedder of blood. Does this mean he must become a murderer? King David was of a ruddy complexion (admoni), yet he slew the enemies of Hashem and fought the wars of Hashem. Rather, the Gemara gives more common examples: either a mohel, a butcher (tabacha), or a bandit - he will become either a mohel, a slaughterer and butcher, or a robber.
The Vilna Gaon asks: Why specifically these three examples? Because this person was endowed with a nature to shed blood, and he can end up wicked, righteous, or intermediate - and these three examples represent those three states. Wicked: a bandit. Righteous: a mohel. Intermediate: a butcher who slaughters and prepares meat. Thus, it is in one's hands to choose where to direct his innate nature, but one must not think he can rid himself of the fundamental drive to shed blood; he will shed blood - he must simply decide which blood to shed.
Shaul with One and David with Two
From this comes a wonderful explanation by the Vilna Gaon on the words of Chazal: "Shaul stumbled in one sin and it was not forgiven him; David stumbled in two, and it was forgiven him." Shaul committed a single transgression and was not forgiven, whereas David stumbled in two sins and was forgiven - Heaven overlooked them and he did not lose the kingship, while Shaul lost the throne over a single sin. The Gaon asks: Is there favoritism before Heaven? Where is divine justice? (In our recorded series on Sefer Shmuel, a satisfying explanation was presented showing a fundamental difference between Shaul's sin and David's sins, but that is beyond our scope here.)
The Gaon explains: Scripture says of David, "He was ruddy, with fine eyes" - "ruddy" indicates that he was born under the astrological sign of Ma'adim (Mars), associated with bloodshed. For this reason, when Shmuel first saw David's countenance, he was certain that this could not be the anointed king, until the Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: "The anointed of Hashem enters, and you remain seated?" Shmuel arose immediately. If so, how did David ultimately succeed? Because he mastered his nature in virtually everything. King David managed to rise above his basic inclinations in almost every sphere of life. True, in two specific matters he did not master his nature, and in those two sins for which he was called to account we see that he stumbled. Yet even so, it was forgiven him, for whoever overlooks his natural impulses has all his transgressions overlooked from Above. David rectified almost everything, leaving only two unrectified areas - shall Heaven not show him leniency? Consider where he began: ruddy-complexioned, with a harsh, difficult nature, yet he rectified nearly all of it, leaving only two flaws behind.
Shaul, by contrast, began from the opposite direction. Shaul began in a state of immense perfection - "Shaul was a year old when he became king," which Chazal interpret to mean that he was like a one-year-old infant who has never tasted sin. In the words of the Gaon: Shaul shifted his disposition from good to bad in one matter, and therefore even for that single offense he was not forgiven. Shaul was born spiritually complete; when he sinned, it was a descent from innate perfection.
To make this easier to grasp, we can speak in percentages. Suppose Shaul stood at ninety percent and David at eighty percent - Shaul appears better. But Shaul began at one hundred and dropped to ninety, and for that single failure he lost the kingship: having started at one hundred, how could you fall to ninety? David, standing at eighty, began at zero and climbed to eighty. He rectified eighty percent of his character, leaving only twenty percent - two specific sins that he did not master. For this reason, David did not lose the kingship.
In fact, what the Gaon wrote was already taught earlier by the Arizal, as mentioned at the time: David was granted leniency while Shaul was not because David stood at the initial stage of his soul's extraction from the realm of the kelipot - that is, he was at the very beginning of liberating himself from the forces of impurity, a state in which the spiritual struggle is intensely fierce; therefore his sins were weighed in relation to the battlefield onto which he had been placed. Shaul, by contrast, as the holy Ari explains, possessed an extraordinarily refined soul; consequently, even a small blemish constituted a severe defect.
Application: No Two Children Are Alike
Based on this principle, the Gaon explains our verse: "Train a child according to his way" - according to his natural disposition and temperament, so must you train him to perform mitzvot, and then "even when he grows old, he will not depart from it." But if you educate him contrary to his natural temperament, he may comply for now out of fear of you, yet later, when he removes your yoke from his neck, he will cast it all aside, for a person cannot break his inherent nature.
This is the bedrock of countless lectures on education. The guiding rule is "according to his way": one must never educate two children in the exact same manner - never. One child is naturally compliant; you can demand of him and hold him to high standards, and he will willingly obey. Another child possesses a streak of stubbornness and rebellion; if you try to make the same demands of him simply because you made them of his brother and his brother complied, you have committed a fundamental educational error. This is the mistake of many parents who confront a child with: "Look at your brother, whereas you never..." What does that have to do with anything? Was this child born with the same nature? Does he face the same trials or possess the same tools?
Rav Ovadia Yosef had a brother, a very gentle man - his very name was Na'im, meaning pleasant. He passed away about a year before Rav Ovadia. And what was his station in life? A simple shopkeeper, an ordinary, humble man. Could anyone come to him with the complaint: Why are you not like your brother? Did he receive those once-in-a-generation gifts? Demanding that one person be just like another is an impossible demand, because I am not him.
Therefore, every educator and parent must realize: with this child one must proceed gently, with abundant encouragement, kind words, and rewards; while that other child is built for long-distance endurance, requiring higher demands, a stronger push, and more rigorous challenges. Each must be guided according to his own character and way. If you apply a uniform approach to all children, you will not only harm the child, but as the Gaon cautions, it will not last. Why? Because while he is young you coerced him, and having no choice or means of escape, he complied with your wishes; but once he grows up, having been forced into molds that run contrary to his nature, he will cast off the entire yoke and discard everything. An educator therefore requires immense wisdom to understand the child's soul, his temperament, and his demeanor, and on that basis discern what may be demanded of him and what cannot. All too often, a teacher in the classroom instructs in a rigid, formulaic way: demanding the exact same thing of everyone and addressing everyone in the exact same manner - and that is mistaken. An educator must be wise enough to discern each child's individual nature, and train him accordingly.
The Malbim: Two Directives in the Verse
The Malbim explains that there are two directives in this verse. The first is "Train a child" (Chanoch lana'ar) - accustom the youth from an early age toward perfection, whether in outlook, in deeds, or in character traits. What one is accustomed to in youth forms an engraving upon his soul, and it is preserved within him until old age and advanced years, like writing inscribed on a clean sheet of paper. This is unlike when one grows old, which is like writing on an erased sheet, where the inscription is never absolute.
The second directive is that education must be "according to his way" (al pi darko), which aligns with the words of the Vilna Gaon. Every person is naturally suited for something else: one person has a sharp mind, while another is not as sharp and requires more explanation and greater patience. In practical matters, one may have an aptitude for a particular craft and a unique skill, mastering it with ease. We see this in every professional field: you explain something to one child once and he immediately grasps it, becoming adept and proficient, while for another it twists and breaks; he tries from another angle, and it comes out crooked.
Take the writing of STa"M (Torah scrolls, tefillin, and mezuzot), for example. Many people begin learning scribal writing; some emerge as an authentic sofer STa"M, while others turn out to be mere scribblers. You see such a person writing crookedly, one letter high and seven low, with no consistent form - suddenly a small mem, a large mem, a medium mem, a long chet, a short chet, a medium chet. Some people have skilled hands, with an artistic and calligraphic touch, while for others it is simply not their field and not in their nature - and so their hands must find something else.
A man once related that his father had a business, and in that business constant physical labor was required: lifting, bringing merchandise, carrying things in and out. He shared, "I hated it with a passion, but I had no choice." His father would constantly tell him, "What will become of you? You don't like to work; what will become of you?" He answered his father, "Dad, I will work with my head." Today he is an adult, and he notes, "Just as I told my father, so it is in reality. I do not do physical labor at all; whenever something physical comes up, I immediately think about how to hire someone to do it. Physical labor is not for me. But working with the intellect, with thought and administration..." Today he is a very educated man, and works with his intellect. One must know where to steer a child, understanding each child's nature and the path through which to reach him.
The Malbim summarizes: Each person has a natural predisposition for a different pursuit, and one must educate him according to his way and according to his innate impressions, toward that for which he is primed - then he will not swerve from it even when he grows old. But do not educate him toward something contrary to his nature, for whatever opposes his nature - once he matures, he will cast it off and discard it entirely.
A Rich Man Rules Over the Poor
עָשִׁיר בְּרָשִׁים יִמְשׁוֹל וְעֶבֶד לֹוֶה לְאִישׁ מַלְוֶה׃ (משלי כב, ז) - A rich man rules over the poor, and a borrower is a servant to the lender.
Rashi, departing from his usual custom, immediately interprets the verse homiletically (derash): An unlearned person (am ha'aretz) is always dependent upon a Torah scholar (talmid chacham). "A rich man" - one rich in Torah; "over the poor" - over the unlearned, who are impoverished in Torah; "rules." For he needs him for every question and matter: "Honored Rabbi, what do we do here? Honored Rabbi, how should one conduct himself here?" He needs the rabbi to serve as a mohel, a shochet, and a sofer, to officiate at his wedding, and to render halachic rulings regarding various sights and all other matters. In every single thing he relies upon him - "a rich man rules over the poor."
In summary:
"Train a child according to his way" teaches us two fundamental principles in education: to begin early and educate at a young age, when the youth is receptive and his traits and habits have not yet hardened - for habit governs all things, and just as a soft sapling can be straightened with a stake, so too a person, and like an impression made upon a clean sheet of paper; and to educate each child according to his nature, inclination, and strengths - in the words of the Vilna Gaon, that a person cannot break his nature but can only redirect it toward good, just as King David redirected his traits and channeled the influence of Mars toward the service of Hashem. A rigid, one-size-fits-all education that runs contrary to the child's nature will last only as long as he remains under authority, and ultimately he will cast it off; but education that is "according to his way" - even when he grows old, he will not swerve from it.