Chapter 27 in Mishlei addresses many facets of friendship, rebuke, and interpersonal relationships. In this lesson, we will focus on one verse that stands as one of the great foundations in the Torah of chesed: verse 9, which teaches how immense the power of good counsel from an outside perspective is, and how much a person has the capacity to sweeten the soul of his fellow through words.
שֶׁמֶן וּקְטֹרֶת יְשַׂמַּח־לֵב וּמֶתֶק רֵעֵהוּ מֵעֲצַת־נָפֶשׁ׃ (משלי כז, ט) - Oil and incense gladden the heart, and the sweetness of one's friend is better than counsel from one's own soul.
Rashi explains that the "oil" mentioned here is not olive oil, but balsam oil - the most prestigious perfume of their time. The fragrance of balsam oil and the fragrance of incense gladden the heart: a person smells them and is filled with delight, pleasure, and joy. And on this Shlomo says: "And the sweetness of a friend is [better] than the counsel of one's soul" - one whose fellow draws him close and sweetens things for him with words, words that are pleasant to the ears, is better off than one who is counseled only by his own soul.
A person is uncertain about something and does not know how to act. He considers one side and then the other: perhaps I should do this, or perhaps I should do that. How vital it is to have someone who can offer counsel! Even if that person is not the Gadol HaDor (the preeminent sage of the generation), he at least provides a fresh perspective on the matter of doubt. There is tremendous value in having someone else listen, having someone else sweeten the situation with their words - meaning his words are pleasant and comforting to hear - when he comes to give advice. And this is better than "counsel of one's soul," the advice one arrives at merely by consulting oneself. For when a person consults only with himself, he remains locked into the same line of reasoning and the same mindset; but when someone else advises him - in modern terms, he "thinks outside the box." When you are immersed inside the issue, you are entrenched, whereas an outsider thinks differently.
Someone once related (whether historically accurate or not): NASA worked for months to develop a pen that could write in space. A pen writes by force of gravity, and in space there is zero gravity - the ink simply floats inside with no pull toward the paper. They invested months of research and development to overcome this challenge. Someone then asked the Russian cosmonauts what they did, and they replied: "We used a pencil." That is the essence of thinking outside the box: you decided you had to write with a pen, so you developed a specialized pen - but who said it had to be a pen? Take a pencil and write.
There is another story of a factory owner who faced a persistent problem: sheets of paper coming off the machine were sticking together. They brought in technicians and tried complex systems and specialized engineering that cost vast sums of money to separate the papers. Then a simple worker came along and placed an ordinary fan in front of the machine - and the airflow separated the sheets, completely solving the problem. When a person steps back and considers an issue along a new line of thought, he suddenly discovers that problems that seemed intricately complicated are far simpler than they appeared. When you receive counsel from someone else, it can provide a vantage point that never would have crossed your mind.
Thus, just as "oil and incense gladden the heart," so too does "the sweetness of one's friend." Hearing advice from a friend who sweetens the situation with comforting words is better than the counsel of one's own soul - than the advice one's own mind conjures - because you are constrained within your own perspective, whereas another person can offer an entirely new direction of thought.
In another approach, Rashi explains by way of derash: "And the sweetness of his Friend" - this refers to one who rectifies his deeds so that they are sweet to his Friend, and "his Friend" here refers to the Holy One, blessed be He. "The sweetness of his Friend" means that it is far better for a person to sweeten his deeds before the Almighty than to indulge the cravings of his own heart. And how do we know that "his Friend" refers to the Holy One, blessed be He? From the very next verse, "Do not forsake your friend and your father's friend," which speaks of the Master of the Universe, as will be explained in its place.
Rabbeinu Yonah writes in Sha'arei Teshuvah: A person is obligated to devise thoughts and formulate upright, sound counsel for his fellow. That is, one must think about how to assist others, and this is one of the primary avenues of gemilut chassadim (acts of loving-kindness), as it is stated: "Oil and incense rejoice the heart, and the sweetness of a friend comes from heartfelt counsel" (Mishlei 27:9). One should constantly consider: How can I benefit my fellow? How can I assist others? For the sweetness with which one helps a friend is sweeter than counsel born of mere self-interest.
Rabbeinu Yonah makes an additional observation in his commentary on Tractate Avot: Gemilut chassadim differs fundamentally from tzedakah. Tzedakah is directed to the poor, whereas gemilut chassadim extends to the wealthy as well. At times, a wealthy person urgently requires a loan to stand on his feet, without which he might face bankruptcy and creditors. A single loan can rescue him, and sound counsel can help him just as much. This is what Shlomo meant by: "Oil and incense rejoice the heart, and the sweetness of a friend comes from heartfelt counsel" - just as oil and incense gladden the heart, so one sweetens his fellow's life through sincere, heartfelt counsel. By offering good advice, one eases his burden and brings sweetness to his soul. The trait of chesed makes a person pleasing before Hashem, and for its sake the world was created - to bring pleasure to one's Creator, as it says, "The world is built on kindness" (Tehillim 89:3). When a person guides his ways with chesed, he emulates the ways of Hashem.
It is worth noting that Rabbeinu Yonah did not author an extant commentary on the final chapters of Mishlei. Therefore, what is cited in his name here is gathered from several sources: Sha'arei Teshuvah, his commentary on Avot, and Iggeret HaTeshuvah. In Iggeret HaTeshuvah he writes: "And this is the work of loving-kindness - one should speak to the heart of the pauper, let his words bring solace to the destitute, comfort him over his plight and the distress of his toil, honor and uplift him... And second, he should lend to the poor man for his benefit and relief." Consider how vital it is not merely to give, but to offer consolation and words that are sweet to his soul. One must not simply hand over a gift and shut the door; rather, one must speak words that soothe his mind and encourage him - words that reassure the pauper that his situation will not remain this way forever, and that the Holy One, blessed be He, will bestow abundance upon him from His immense kindness.
In this spirit, King Shlomo said: "Better a meal of herbs where peace is" than a fattened ox accompanied by strife (Mishlei 15:17). When Shlomo, in his wandering state, arrived at the home of a wealthy man, the host set before him a lavish banquet fit for King Shlomo in his prime. But throughout the meal, the host began saying: "Do you remember what you used to have on your table? Do you remember how many guests dined with you? I remember when you were king..." Shlomo ate while tears streamed from his eyes. Later, he arrived at a poor man's home, where he received nothing more than a simple plate of greens - but there, the pauper began to comfort him: "You will yet return to your greatness. Everything you are enduring is for your spiritual refinement, and with Hashem's help, the Holy One, blessed be He, will restore you to your kingship." A meager meal of herbs - yet what profound solace it brought, in stark contrast to the host who constantly rubbed salt in his wounds! Thus, at times "the sweetness of a friend" is more precious than anything; words of encouragement and strength are worth far more than the charity and money one might give.
Incidentally, one should recognize that often it is specifically the wealthy and prosperous who stand in need of this; they, in particular, need counselors. Anyone who has the ability and opportunity to help another should know that in our generation, this is an immense mitzvah.
A business owner once related an incident regarding an employee of his, a young man in his late twenties, an exceptional worker of fine character who was incapable of quarreling with anyone. Suddenly it became known that he was suffering severe marital discord: constant friction, with the parents intervening, which only sparked further troubles. One day, the young man's father-in-law came to the shop, and the employer sat down to talk with him. He said: "Look, I know your son-in-law; you will never find another like him. This is someone unwilling to fight with anyone, and if a dispute arises, he is the first to step back. Your daughter is not perfect either; she has her own faults. Do you really believe you will find someone better? What are you actually thinking? Where are you heading with this? Are you pushing for divorce? She has four children - if she gets divorced, she will be back in your house. Have you taken that into account? Who is going to marry a thirty-year-old woman with four children? She will remain under your roof."
Just recently, a father called a rabbi seeking guidance: "Rabbi, I did not want to act rashly; I called to ask. I have a three-year-old child who suddenly walked into the living room without pants or underwear and sat down to color. In my home, standards of modesty and sanctity are never taken lightly, and I was on the verge of reacting very harshly - but I told myself to call first." The rabbi replied: "It is fortunate that you called, and you did very well to call. What do you expect from the child? What does a three-year-old understand? What will you speak to him about - sanctity? Why scream at him? Do you wish to traumatize him and instill deep-seated fears and revulsion toward the entire concept of modesty? You will damage his soul. A child has no comprehension of these matters, no framework for them - he is just a child! These are basic, commonsense truths that every generation understood: if a child wanders around like that, you simply say, 'Sweetheart, go put on your underwear and pants,' send him to his room to dress, and explain that we do not sit that way in the living room. That is the end of the matter. Yet today, people think a world war must be waged over such a thing!"
In truth, that child was fortunate that his father reached out for guidance. There are those who never ask, and the result is endless strife and harm. Another mother called regarding her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, whose father insisted on sending her to nursery dressed like a cloistered ascetic. A toddler of two and a half - what possible issues of modesty exist there? Such rigidity can cause genuine emotional damage. Master of the Universe, people have lost their basic common sense; they have abandoned elementary logic! Anyone blessed with a measure of sound judgment - there is no need to be a towering genius; it is enough to possess the healthy instincts of the previous generation - has an immense mitzvah to help and open the eyes of those who are bewildered and lost in our times.
Therefore Shlomo declares: "The sweetness of a friend comes from heartfelt counsel." The counsel one offers his fellow is sweet to him. When one provides good advice and assists another, he receives a reward for the fruit of that counsel and a reward for the emotional relief and peace of mind he brought - a double reward from Heaven. A person rejoices upon recognizing the love of a faithful friend who looks out for his welfare purely out of goodwill. One is truly gladdened to have someone who cares, helps, and watches over his well-being - and this is the meaning of "Oil and incense rejoice the heart, and the sweetness of a friend comes from heartfelt counsel."
The Vilna Gaon interprets the verse as referring to the Beis HaMikdash: "Oil" refers to the oil of the Menorah, and "incense" to the ketores burned on the altar. "And the sweetness of a friend" - how sweet was the speech of the Kohen Gadol when he would say on Yom Kippur: "Please, this people has sinned, please grant atonement..." And from where did the Kohen know what to say and in what manner? "From soul counsel" (me'atzas nafesh) - for he knew the sins of his own tribe and the sins of the many tribes of Israel. When a person came to bring an offering, he would confess, and the Kohen would see where people stumbled and with which sins they were flawed. Through this, he knew which areas required rectification and what good guidance to give the people on how to serve Hashem. Therefore, he was able to confess on their behalf, for he truly knew what each person needed to repair. The oil of the Menorah is wondrous, and the incense is wondrous, and both gladden the heart - yet beyond all this, there is something even greater: the sweetness of the words of the Kohen Gadol confessing on behalf of the nation. For this is the main thing: that a person confess and rectify his sins.
The Malbim explains that the heart is the dwelling place of the vital soul (nefesh chiyunis). Early authorities spoke of the vital soul and the spiritual soul. The vital soul is what we call nefesh within the levels of Nefesh-Ruach-Neshamah, denoting the life-force. A dog also possesses a vital soul, as do beasts and animals - albeit at their respective levels. The vital soul is the power of motion and vitality, as it is said, "for the blood is the life (nefesh)," and its abode is in the heart and blood; the basic functioning of a human being operates through its power. But man possesses an additional spiritual stature, the spiritual dimension within him, which is the spiritual soul that animals do not possess, known in the levels of NaRaN as ruach. Higher still is the neshamah, which is a portion of God from Above; as the kabbalists explain, it hovers above a person's head and casts sparks of its light toward the faculties of Keter, Chochmah, and Binah, or Chochmah, Binah, and Da'at - meaning it is not inside the cranium, but encompasses it from without. (Those interested can study this at greater length in Mishnas HaGilgulim, where the division of nefesh, ruach, and neshamah, their locations, and their operations are elaborated.)
The Malbim explains: the heart is the seat of the vital soul, and it is gladdened by fine oil that exudes a pleasant scent and by fragrant incense. When a person smells a fragrance, he experiences pleasure - a pleasure that is not purely spiritual, but sensory and aromatic, for the physical body enjoys it. Now, even though the Holy One, blessed be He, already created within us the capacity to breathe and inhale pure air, and the lungs deliver vital air to the heart to sustain the spirit of life, nevertheless, an external breeze carrying a pleasant fragrance brings a person an added sense of well-being and vitality. Beyond the ordinary air one breathes, there is, so to speak, a "turbo air" that imparts greater vitality and greater pleasure.
So too, says the Malbim, even though the capacity for counsel is naturally implanted in a person's soul, its strength increases when he shares and sweetens counsel with his friend. Just as breathing is sufficient for basic life, yet spices elevate and provide a different dimension of vitality, so too one has counsel within his own soul and it might seem sufficient - but know that if you deliberate and sweeten counsel with your friend, that input from the outside grants greater vigor and completes the counsel so that it becomes sound and wise. The word metek ("sweetness") here is used in the sense of "we who shared sweet counsel together" (asher yachdav namtik sod) - deliberating together to resolve an issue. In that way, even a great person can benefit from someone lesser than himself.
It is told that Rav Chaim of Volozhin once came to the home of the Vilna Gaon. The household members were overjoyed to see him and said: It is good that you have arrived. For three days, the Vilna Gaon has neither eaten nor drunk, and his face has grown dark with distress. He is immersed in a passage in the Yerushalmi and cannot arrive at its true meaning, facing an immense difficulty. We tried speaking with him, asking him to leave it and come eat, but he is simply unable to do so. Perhaps you can try talking to him.
Rav Chaim - the Vilna Gaon's foremost disciple - entered. The Gaon was very glad to see him and said: It is good that you came; I am struggling with a passage and lack understanding of it. And he began to lay the sugya out before him. Rav Chaim said: If the master does not know, how could I know? The Gaon replied: "Minei u'minach tisravach shema'teta" - between the two of us together, the matter will become clear. After he laid out the sugya and its difficulties, Rav Chaim suggested a possibility and an idea. The Vilna Gaon developed it, and a great radiance came over his face: by the grace of Hashem, he had attained an understanding of the passage.
It was already just minutes before Shabbat, and it is told that the very first thing the Vilna Gaon did was go taste some food - because there is a halachic requirement not to enter Shabbat while famished and afflicted. Some make sure to eat every Friday afternoon out of this concern, but the Gaon was consumed solely with fulfilling the halachah itself, which is why he was known as the Gaon HeChasid (the pious genius): what concerned him was the halachah not to enter Shabbat afflicted. Having merited to understand the sugya, he now went to eat something.
From here we see: a giant of stature like the Vilna Gaon says, "I need help, I need someone to explain it to me." And who was it? His own student, Rav Chaim of Volozhin. When the counsel of one's fellow joins the inner counsel of the soul, the counsel reaches completion. "Together we take sweet counsel," and just as iron sharpens iron, when we join together, we can achieve far more than anyone thinking in isolation.
"Oil and incense gladden the heart, and the sweetness of a friend comes from heartfelt counsel": Just as the fragrance of fine oil and incense adds vitality and joy beyond the basic air a person breathes, so too the counsel of a friend coming from the outside completes and elevates the counsel of a person's own soul, which can become fixed in its habits and unable to think outside the box. Rashi teaches that the advice of a friend that is sweet to your ears is better than your own soul's advice, and by way of derash - that a person should sweeten his deeds before his Companion, Who is the Holy One, blessed be He. Rabbeinu Yonah adds that this is among the primary foundations of loving-kindness: to devise sound thoughts and constructive counsel for one's fellow, to speak encouragingly to the poor and comfort him, and to assist even a wealthy person with a loan and sound advice. And the Vilna Gaon teaches that greater even than the sweetness of the Menorah's oil and the incense is the sweetness of the Kohen Gadol's confession, who understood from the souls of the people what they needed to rectify. The incident between the Gra and Rav Chaim of Volozhin demonstrates that even the greatest of the generation needs a companion - "Between me and you the teaching will be clarified," just as one knife sharpens another.