Introduction: One Verse, Three Paths of Explanation
Chapter 27 of Mishlei teaches a person to distinguish between what seems close and what is truly close. In this lesson, we will examine one central verse in the chapter and explore three approaches to understanding it: the approach of Rashi, that of the Vilna Gaon (the Gra), and that of the Malbim. Each of them opens a different gate for us into the very same verse, and from all three emerges a complete picture - upon whom should one rely, and upon whom should one not.
רֵעֲךָ וְרֵעַ אָבִיךָ אַל תַּעֲזֹב וּבֵית אָחִיךָ אַל תָּבוֹא בְּיוֹם אֵידֶךָ טוֹב שָׁכֵן קָרוֹב מֵאָח רָחוֹק. (כז, י) - "Do not forsake your friend and your father's friend, and do not enter your brother's house on the day of your calamity; better is a close neighbor than a distant brother" (27:10).
Rashi: Your Friend and Your Father's Friend - This Is the Holy One, Blessed Be He
Rashi explains: "Your friend and your father's friend" - this refers to the Holy One, Blessed Be He. As we have already seen, He is your friend and He was your father's friend, having cherished your forefathers. "Do not forsake" - and do not think this is merely good advice; Rashi says that if you forsake Him, Heaven forbid, retribution will come upon you.
"And do not enter your brother's house on the day of your calamity" - on the day of your ruin and your distress, do not rely on a brother. "Every brother will utterly supplant." And of whom does the verse speak? Rashi says: Do not trust the descendants of Esav and Yishmael to draw you near. As we find when Israel was exiled to Babylon, they would say to those leading them in neck-chains: "Please, lead us by way of our brothers, the descendants of Esav and Yishmael; perhaps they will take pity on us." But the descendants of Yishmael would come out toward them and greet them with salty foods and inflated wineskins. The Israelites ate the salty foods and thought: What hospitality the Ishmaelites are showing us! They are not attacking us, but giving us salted fish to eat. Then they gave them the inflated waterskins, and when they put them to their mouths, it blew up their stomachs until their bellies burst. What do we see from this? "Do not enter your brother's house on the day of your calamity" - brothers like these, we do not need.
"Better is a close neighbor" - it is better that One who is close to all who call upon Him dwell among you, namely the Holy One, Blessed Be He, "than a distant brother" - than a brother who has distanced himself. And why did he distance himself? For Esav said, "The days of mourning for my father are drawing near, and I will kill my brother Yaakov." Thus, the first part - "and do not enter your brother's house on the day of your calamity" - hints at Yishmael, whom we approached only for him to harm us; and the second part - "better is a close neighbor than a distant brother" - refers back to Esav, who is nominally a brother, but what kind of brother is he? A brother who distanced himself from me and said, "The days of mourning for my father are drawing near, and I will kill my brother Yaakov."
The Gra: Your Friend - The Torah and Mitzvot
The Gra explains: You have a friend who is both your friend and your father's friend - do not forsake him; rather, remain attached to his love. Through this, you will not need to go to your brother's house on the day of your calamity. Since you have such a beloved friend, one who is so helpful and supportive, with whom you already have proven experience - he was also your father's friend, and his friendship continues with you. If you maintain his friendship, you will not need your brother's house in your time of distress. And why? Because "better is a neighbor" - even a neighbor who was not with you before, and has only now begun to dwell with you and comes to live beside you - he is better than a distant brother, a brother who drifted away after once being close to you.
All this is an allegory, in the Gra's characteristic style: "Your friend" refers to the Torah and the mitzvot. They are your friend and your father's friend, as it says, "And you shall make them known to your children and your children's children." They are the companions of your fathers, the holy Patriarchs who bequeathed to us, "Moses commanded us the Torah." Thus, this is your father's friend and your friend as well, and this is a person's true friend. This is grounded in what we saw earlier: a person has three types of companions. The first companion is his relatives and family members; the second companion is his wealth; and the third companion is the Torah and mitzvot. In reality, we know that no one accompanies a person upon his departure from this world - neither his relatives nor his silver and gold. The only thing that accompanies him is Torah, mitzvot, and good deeds, as it is said, "And your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of Hashem shall gather you in."
A person has three friends: his relatives, his wealth, and his good deeds. When a person must depart from this world, wealth and relatives distance themselves from him. They cannot help him in the grave, and even during his lifetime in a moment of distress, money cannot always help, and relatives cannot always help. There is only one thing that remains eternal - the good deeds that a person performs, and there too they will rescue him from the pit. The mitzvot and the Torah he learned are what will save him.
And this is what is meant by "and do not enter your brother's house on the day of your calamity." Who is "your brother's house"? Wealth and relatives, regarding whom a person feels, "These are my brothers; they will help me." Do not turn to them on the day of your calamity - it is a waste of time. When you are taken to your eternal rest, do not go knocking on their doors: neither your relatives nor your wealth will help you. Money will not even leave the house; sometimes the body is not yet cold and "for my clothing they cast lots," dividing the spoils - everyone is already thinking about what this one takes, what I take, and what that one will receive. The person has barely been laid to rest, and they are already dividing his money. From wealth, nothing will come to your aid. Relatives will accompany you a bit further, but only as far as the grave; once they have lowered you down, the most they will do is cover you with earth, and that is it - beyond that, they do not advance a single centimeter.
And what does? That which now comes and draws near to you - the mitzvot and the Torah. Even though, the Vilna Gaon says, they were actually always with us, for "when you lie down, when you rise up, and when you walk on the way," a person is always obligated in Torah and mitzvot. And this is better than a distant brother - a brother who was close to you and grew distant, who was close to me here in this world, and now that I am going to my eternal rest has distanced himself from me. Therefore, invest in your friend and your father's friend, which are the Torah and the mitzvot, for that is what will stand by you for all eternity.
The Vilna Gaon and His Sister: Every Moment Is Precious
It is not for nothing that the Vilna Gaon said these words, and he was truly fit to say them. It is told that his sister came to visit him after they had not seen each other for about twenty years. They met and there was great joy, and she wanted to tell him everything that was happening with her, with the children, with the family, which children had married, how many children had been born, and what was going on in their lives. The story goes that he said only two or three words to her, no more than a sentence or two: "My dear sister, life here in this world is short, and every single moment is precious. After one hundred and twenty years, we will have plenty of time to talk about everything, but here there is no time." With that, the meeting ended, and the Vilna Gaon returned to his studies.
It is not for nothing that the Vilna Gaon was able to make an accounting at the end of the year and discover only a few minutes that he did not know what he had done with, a few minutes unaccounted for. We too sometimes have a few minutes that we actually know what we did with! But for him, it was: "Where did the time go? What was I doing that Wednesday between nine o'clock and nine-oh-six?" - and in his soul-searching at the end of the year, he could not account for that time. This is the meaning of "Do not forsake your friend and your father's friend": persevere in Torah and the performance of mitzvot, for what will truly stand by you on the day of your calamity, on the day of your ruin, when a person is gathered to his eternal home, is specifically the near neighbor, specifically your friend and your father's friend - the Torah and the mitzvot, and no one else.
The Malbim: Brotherly Love - Until the Day of Calamity
The Malbim explains the verse according to its plain meaning: If you have a friend with whom you have good experience, and not only you, but your father also had good experience with him - do not forsake him. Why? While the Holy One, blessed be He, planted love between brothers - though one might say there are some in whom this is not seen. And as is well known, if there is hatred between brothers, there is no hatred like the hatred of relatives; because from someone you expect nothing from, you are not disappointed, but from a brother and a relative you expect much, and therefore the disappointment is far greater. And if things deteriorate to hatred, it is truly terrible.
Yet in the normal, natural course of things, love prevails between brothers. We see this with young children, who express love through squabbling - "He took mine, he did this to me, tell him, tell her" - that is a mode of expression unique to that age. But as they grow a bit older, you see that there truly is a bond and a closeness between them; this is the natural reality.
However, says the Malbim: You should know, this closeness exists only as long as things are going well for you, and especially as long as you do not need him. But the moment you need him, on the day of your calamity - after all, "All the brothers of the poor man hate him." Why? Because he becomes a burden. "Him again? Another child getting married? Are they going to tell us again that everyone must pitch in and help him out? Leave me alone with this brother." How long is your brother really a brother? Until suddenly he needs you, and when he needs you, you have no patience for him.
This is a painful reality, and one sees it on many occasions. They can be brothers, loving, friends, everything - yet when one falls into need, suddenly you see how people shake him off. Not everyone, but many shake him off. "He has become a burden on us," and they even start blaming him: he is responsible for his own situation, he is only looking for ways to extract money from us. And why do they blame him? To soothe their conscience: Why am I not giving? Because he is this, that, and the other. Anyone can dig up all kinds of strange excuses not to give, even going to the ends of the earth to justify it.
And where is this seen most? When an inheritance comes into play. If the love was so great, what happened that caused the family to fall apart? Countless families disintegrate over an inheritance. The truth is that this happens primarily when there is not much; when there is a lot of money, families usually hold together, but when there is not much, you see people fighting over scraps. How much will you even get from the parents' apartment stuck somewhere? One hundred and fifty thousand shekels, and out of that, the lawyer already wants dozens of percent, if not fifty percent of the sum - just for the battle! It is tragic. In families where everything seemed so close and wonderful, when someone stumbles or when tension arises, you suddenly see that love evaporate. This is what the Malbim means: on the day of your calamity, his love ceases - the day of your calamity arrives, and suddenly you discover what "my brother" really means. All along it was "my brother, my brother," "we are brothers," and suddenly it all vanished and nothing remains. Or from the aspect that "all the brothers of the poor man hate him."
"And You Shall Return Each Man to His Family" - Extended Family in the Yovel Year
Regarding the Jubilee year, Scripture states: "You shall return, each man to his ancestral holding, and each man to his family shall you return." The question is asked: "Each man to his family" - why, had he abandoned his family? Was he an eved Ivri? In the Yovel year, each man returns to his ancestral land, but what does "each man to his family" mean? The homiletic quip goes: in the Yovel year, a person suddenly regains his properties. For fifty years he did not have these estates, and suddenly he receives them back - and what happens then? He gets a phone call. From whom? From Moishe. Who is Moishe? "Look, we're family! We're second cousins!" Suddenly you discover you have a huge family. What happened? You became a man of wealth, and suddenly you find out you have an extended family. Where were you until now? For fifty years we haven't heard from you! Yes, but today there is money.
They tell a similar story about the kibbutzim, where there are many disgruntled people because they are reaching arrangements regarding the distribution of property - over land rights and other such matters. They say that suddenly people you have never heard from show up - third-generation descendants who no longer live on the kibbutz, but have an inheritance from some grandfather. Suddenly they arrive at the kibbutz, suddenly looking for a house there. We never saw or heard from this person; he went off to make money in the free market, and when he heard they were dividing up land - like a vulture swooping down upon a carcass, he too wants a share in the spoils. You should know that suddenly you discover family when you have money. But when you have no money, he does not know you: "My family? From where?" You call him asking for a loan or something - "From where? From whom? How, from that grandmother? So distant? You don't say."
"That is a Bit Distant" - The Story with the Rebbe
A person once came to a Rebbe and asked him for financial aid and support. He said to him: "Honored Rebbe, 'and do not hide yourself from your own flesh' (Yeshayahu 58:7)." The Rebbe asked him: "From your own flesh? What do you mean?" He replied: "The Rebbe is my second cousin, through that aunt." The Rebbe said to him: "Nu, that is a bit distant. That is a bit distant."
The man waited for an opportune moment, waiting until the Rebbe stepped up to lead the prayer. He heard him recite, "Our God and God of our fathers, God of Avraham, God of Yitzchak, and God of Yaakov" - and then whispered to him: "That is a bit distant, that is a bit distant." After the prayer, the Rebbe opened both his heart and his pocket. The man said to him: "You invoked the God of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov - that is a bit distant! Here you seek the kinship: when you want something by merit of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, you say, 'Master of the Universe, remember that I am related to them, we are family' - and that is not too distant for you. Yet when a second cousin comes to you - that is a bit distant?" A profound moral lesson.
Better a Near Neighbor than a Distant Brother
This is reality: "All the brothers of a poor man hate him," yet if you have money - suddenly the extended family flourishes, Baruch Hashem. Therefore Shlomo tells you: better a near neighbor, someone close to you, beside you, than a distant brother. Even though he is a brother, we have already said, "and do not enter your brother's house on the day of your calamity" - salvation will not sprout for you from there. And we see this as an undeniable reality; it is incredible how relevant the words of Shlomo are to our own times.
Sometimes a person has a neighbor in his apartment building who is a companion like a brother to him, and you see that if you need help or lack something - your salvation comes from him. Meanwhile, the brother who lives elsewhere says: "Today doesn't work for me," "I can't right now," and "Listen, don't call me during these hours because I'm in the middle of meetings and it's very disruptive." This is your brother, from whom you would have expected something - and suddenly you see that the neighbor is the one going above and beyond, standing by you and helping you. A near neighbor, very often, is better than a distant brother.
In Summary:
One verse, three paths, and a single message. Rashi teaches that "your friend and your father's friend" refers to the Holy One, blessed be He, and that one should not rely on "brothers" such as Yishmael and Esav, whose closeness is harmful. The Vilna Gaon (Gra) teaches that your friend refers to Torah and mitzvos, the only true beloved that accompanies a person on the day of calamity, while wealth and relatives stop at the grave; hence the dedication of every single moment, exemplified by the Gra who told his sister, "Every moment is precious." And the Malbim teaches the plain reality: brotherly love lasts as long as there is no need, but on the day of calamity, "all the brothers of a poor man hate him," whereas when there is money - suddenly the family expands. Therefore, better a near neighbor, one who stands at your side in a time of need, than a distant brother who has grown estranged. And on a deeper level: cling to the true companion - to the Torah, to the mitzvos, and to the Holy One, blessed be He - for they alone will stand by a person forever.