In this part of Chapter 28, we deal with several verses that center on a single theme: the trait of fear and apprehension - when is it a virtue, when is it a flaw, and what is its place in the service of teshuvah? We will open with the central verse, "Happy is the man who fears always," examine the insights of Rashi, the Gra, the Ralbag, and the wondrous precision of the Malbim, and then follow Rabbeinu Yonah, who builds from these verses an entire chain of fundamental principles of teshuvah.
אַשְׁרֵי אָדָם מְפַחֵד תָּמִיד וּמַקְשֶׁה לִבּוֹ יִפּוֹל בְּרָעָה׃ (יד) - Happy is the man who fears always, but he who hardens his heart shall fall into evil. (14)
Rashi explains: "Fears always" - he fears punishment, and through this fear he distances himself from sins. In contrast, "he who hardens his heart" - he feels no fear at all, and therefore he will ultimately receive punishment and fall into sin.
The Gra notes that the Gemara applies this verse to matters of Torah: a person is always concerned lest he did not fulfill his obligation, lest he did not complete his daily portion, or lest he failed to perform the mitzvah properly. This corresponds to the teaching in Masechet Derech Eretz Zuta: "Love the 'perhaps' and hate the 'what of it?'" When a person is in doubt - perhaps I did not act properly, perhaps I did not complete my quota, perhaps I did not do everything required - that is the "perhaps" (shema), and one must embrace it. But one who hardens his heart and says, "What of it? It is fine, what did I really do, what prohibition is there in this?" - regarding this it is said, "and hate the 'what of it?'" In matters of Torah, a person must always maintain a healthy apprehension lest he did not fulfill his obligation.
It is told of the Rav of Brisk (the Brisker Rav) that he once asked someone to bake matzot for him. After they finished baking, he began to interrogate: Were you careful about this? Were you meticulous about that? Was it under constant supervision the entire time? He asked a thousand and one questions. There was a man present who was bothered by all this probing, and he said: "Honored Rav, why all these questions? 'A single witness is believed in matters of prohibition' (eid echad ne'eman b'issurin); they told you that everything was done properly, and you should rely on them!"
The Brisker Rav said to him: "Tell me, suppose you were walking out of your house right now with a substantial sum of money, half a million dollars, on your way to deposit it in the bank. Many things could happen along the way, so you put the money deep in an inside suit pocket, keep one hand over it, then place your other hand over that, and button your coat tightly. What could happen? Will a gust of wind come and blow the cash away?" The man replied, "Of course I would do that - it's half a million dollars, one guards it properly!" The Rav said to him: "Believe me, for me these matzot are worth more than a million dollars. Therefore, the safeguarding must match, and the questions, inquiries, and scrutiny must match as well."
Another story is told of a man who came to the Brisker Rav, heard all the probing questions and halachic stringencies, and related to him: "My Rebbe, when he wanted to obtain matzot, prepared and took meticulous care with everything. But when he returned from the bakery, he encountered a simple Jew holding his own matzot, and asked him, 'What intentions did you have in mind while baking the matzot?' The man replied, 'I prayed to Hashem to help me have the most beautiful, mehudar matzot.' The Rebbe said, 'This is a simple prayer from the depth of the heart - would you agree to exchange matzot with me?' And he exchanged them, rejoicing exceedingly in those matzot." This is a quintessential Chassidic story, characterizing the approach that the heart is primary - beyond all the questions and stringencies, where was the heart? This is similar to the tale of the one who blew the shofar and lost his concentration (mochin), failing to meditate on all the mystical intentions, yet the Rebbe told him that his blast effected rectifications in Heaven greater than all the kavanot of the Rashash.
But the Brisker Rav was a Litvak, so he remarked: "Well, then the simple Jew's prayer was answered! What did the simple Jew ask for? 'Master of the Universe, may we merit the most mehudar matzot' - and the Rebbe exchanged matzot with him! Thus his prayer was accepted." He completely turned the story on its head: while the Chassid saw in the story a sign and wonder demonstrating the Rebbe's greatness, the Brisker Rav saw in it specifically the power of prayer - that when a Jew prays from the depths of his heart, even if his matzot are nothing special, Heaven will arrange for the Rebbe to exchange with him, so that he receives the Rebbe's matzot.
Thus, a person must always be concerned: perhaps I did not perform the deed with perfection; perhaps I did not do it properly. Love the "perhaps," and hate the attitude of "what does it matter" - do not say, "It is not so bad, it is fine too."
Ralbag explains the verse on another plane: "Happy is the man who fears always" - this refers to someone whom it is fitting to fear. A person who is cautious does not bang his head against a wall; rather, he thinks, plans, and examines which way to escape from that person and which way to be saved from that misfortune. But one who "hardens his heart" - saying, "There is no need, I am not afraid of him" - will fall into misfortune, for that person might indeed be dangerous and harm him.
And Ralbag adds: do you not see that hardening of the heart destroyed both the First and Second Temples? The king of Babylon crowned Tzidkiyahu and told him that if he remained subordinate to him, no harm would come to them, yet Tzidkiyahu broke his oath and rebelled against Nevuchadnezzar - and we know how it ended. Were it not for that stubbornness, he would have realized that the Jewish people could still have remained in their land. So too in the Second Temple, when those zealots (biryonim) came, fought, refused to yield, held out during the siege, and burned all the stores of wine and oil - and in the end, our Beit HaMikdash was destroyed and burned.
In contrast, when a person understands and reads the situation correctly - as Rabbi Akiva said: "To every single wave, I bowed my head." Sometimes a wave approaches, and one must lower his head; if you hold your head high, it will wash you away. Specifically lowering one's head allows the turbulent wave to pass over. This is the path the Jewish people knew throughout all the years of exile: not to be stubborn against the Gentile, and not to flex muscles against him. Deep inside, the Jew recognized the Gentile's true nature, but outwardly he gave him the impression that he was subordinate to him. So Yaakov said to his sons: "Why do you make yourselves seen?" - there are Gentiles around, do not make yourselves appear sated and affluent. And in places where they did not follow this path, and where Jews built castles in the air, lavish villas, and displayed great wealth - we know how destruction struck and what happened in a harsh and terrible way. Therefore, let a person not harden his heart, but rather be "always fearful," and then he will be prepared for any trouble that may arise.
The Malbim notes a grammatical nuance here. One could say poched or one could say mefached, and mefached is in the intensive conjugation (binyan pi'el). Why does the verse not say, "Happy is the man who is poched always," in the simple conjugation (binyan kal)? This is a principle the Malbim repeats in many places: when a term appears in the intensive conjugation, it is not literal, but rather how it seems to the person or how he considers himself. Thus, "There is one who pretends to be rich (mit'asher)" - he does not truly become rich, but imagines himself rich, "yet has nothing"; and similarly "one who pretends to be poor (mitroshesh)" - he does not truly become destitute, but acts as if he is poor, "yet has great wealth." Here too, mefached does not mean that he has a genuine reason to be afraid.
And the Malbim adds: after all, we find that fear is a sign of sin - "Sinners in Zion were afraid" (Yeshayahu 33:14). And the Gemara relates concerning that student: "He saw that he was afraid, and said to him: 'You are a sinner'" - seeing that he was afraid, he told him that he harbored sins. If so, how can it say, "Happy is the man who fears (mefached) always"? The answer: the one who is poched is a sinner, whereas the one who is mefached - happy is he! "Happy is the man who fears (mefached) always" means that although on his own part he has nothing to fear, since he did not sin, he nevertheless cultivates fear within himself: perhaps I will stumble; perhaps sin will cause harm. Through this, he becomes more meticulous in his ways and more diligent in his observance of the mitzvot - and of him we say, happy is he. But one who fears (poched) because he has an actual reason to fear - that is a sign of sins in his hand.
And the reverse is true regarding "one who hardens his heart": there are genuine reasons for him to fear, as he suffers afflictions - yet he hardens his heart, saying, "It is nothing, it will pass, we will overcome it," instead of changing something in his conduct, making a good resolution, or strengthening himself. This is like Pharaoh, who hardened his heart: he received plagues and remained unconcerned. Concerning this it says, "will fall into misfortune" - he will have no recovery, for recovery belongs to one who can be uplifted. Afflictions restore one who changes; but for one who does not change, the afflictions uproot him with no possibility of change.
And the Malbim adds: in only two places in Tanach does the word for fear appear in the intensive conjugation - in our verse, "fears (mefached) always," and in Yeshayahu, "and you have feared (vatefached) continually all day" (Yeshayahu 51:13). And why there? Because the verse continues there, "and where is the fury of the oppressor?" - meaning there is no genuine reason to fear. Thus, in both places, it refers to one who has no real cause to fear, yet instills fear into his heart even though there is no necessity to be afraid.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains these verses as a single continuous chain, beginning already from verse 12. As noted several times, Rabbeinu Yonah did not author a commentary on the final section of Mishlei; the commentary cited in his name is a collection compiled from his words in Sha'arei Teshuvah and other places. In Sha'arei Teshuvah he writes: "The fifth principle - worry," and King Solomon spoke regarding teshuvah and detailed this matter, that a penitent must harbor worry in his heart. And he begins his words:
בַּעֲלֹץ צַדִּיקִים רַבָּה תִפְאָרֶת וּבְקוּם רְשָׁעִים יְחֻפַּשׂ אָדָם׃ (יב) - "When the righteous exult, glory abounds; but when the wicked rise, a person is searched out" (12).
The explanation is that the righteous glorify and honor people for every good virtue found in them, while the wicked search out people's faults and mistakes to humiliate them - even if they have already abandoned those deeds and repented. This is a reality familiar to this day: the righteous person will search and probe until he finds something good in you, in order to praise you and judge you favorably. The wicked person, by contrast, will search for a mistake you made, where you stumbled, what you failed to do properly - in order to demean you. He can listen to an entire lecture, and at the end come up and say: "What you said there, you did not quote correctly." Out of the whole lecture, that is all that remained with him, and that was what occupied his thoughts throughout the entire talk. The speaker may well have made a mistake, as a person is not an angel - but is that all you took from the whole thing?
Worse still is searching for blemishes in someone who has already repented: "I remember you five years ago, back then you did this, and I remember you from the old neighborhood..." The person has grown older, grown peyot, repented, and changed his ways, yet the other person reminds him of his past. The mere act of finding fault is a severe sin, and coming and reminding a ba'al teshuvah of his earlier deeds is an explicit prohibition: "You shall not wrong one another" - it is forbidden to remind a convert or a ba'al teshuvah of their earlier deeds.
מְכַסֶּה פְשָׁעָיו לֹא יַצְלִיחַ וּמוֹדֶה וְעֹזֵב יְרֻחָם׃ (יג) - "He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will find mercy" (13).
This is a practical question whose halachic status everyone needs to know: Is a person permitted to tell others that he once desecrated Shabbat, committed transgressions, was a thief, and the like? On the one hand, it says, "He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper." On the other hand, Rabbeinu Yonah writes that a penitent should not reveal his iniquities to other people, as can be derived from "and when the wicked rise, a person is searched out" - for one should not seek to publicize deeds of wickedness, but rather when wickedness arises, people search for where a decent and righteous person can be found. And in the Gemara the Sages said: "Insolent to Me is the person who publicizes his sins" - it is great insolence for someone to publicize his sins.
Why? To what can this be compared? To someone who says to you: "Do you know how many times I spat on the king? True, I have repented since then, but do you know how many times I spat on him?" Is this an honor to the king, or a terrible disgrace? One who publicizes his sins is essentially saying: "I angered the Master of the Universe, I did things against Hashem, I committed sins." This in itself is a grave matter.
If so, what is the meaning of "He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper"? A person is obligated to confess before the Holy One, blessed be He, as it is said, "I acknowledged my sin to You, and did not conceal my iniquity," and it is said, "Behold, I enter into judgment with you because you say, 'I have not sinned.'" Tell others? Absolutely not! But to come and say to the Master of the Universe, "I angered You and I did such and such before You" - that is vidui (confession), and through it one fulfills a positive commandment from the Torah. And know that of the entire mitzvah of teshuvah, the only part that is explicitly commanded in the Torah is vidui: "And they shall confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their fathers," as it is explicitly written. Therefore, as discussed several times, when reciting vidui one should intend: "Behold, I intend to fulfill the positive commandment of vidui."
Nevertheless, the Sages state in Yoma (86b) that there are times when "he who conceals his transgressions will not prosper" applies - such as in sins between man and his fellow, where he has no atonement until he restores what was stolen, seized, or extorted, and asks forgiveness from the person he wronged, shamed, or spoke lashon hara about. Similarly, in sins between man and the Omnipresent that became known to people, such as someone who committed transgressions publicly that involved a desecration of Hashem's Name (chillul Hashem) - he is obligated to lament and mourn over them before people and sanctify Hashem's Name. If someone desecrated Hashem's Name publicly, it is not enough for him to do teshuvah privately at home between himself and the Omnipresent; that is not commensurate repentance (teshuvat hamishkal). He must stand before everyone and say: "I was wrong when I desecrated Hashem's Name, I was wrong when I drove on Shabbat, I was wrong when I did such and such" - and to counter the chillul Hashem, there is now kiddush Hashem.
This is also the basis for allowing a well-known person to come forward and tell his story - where he was, amid all the mud and trash, and how he emerged from there. Seemingly, he is recounting that he was a sinner, so on what grounds is this permitted? Rather, since his deeds were public, on the contrary, he now speaks in public and sanctifies Hashem's Name. Furthermore, the entire purpose of the story is to sanctify Hashem's Name: to prove that a person can do teshuvah, that this world is entirely vanity, and that a person must change his ways. When this is the objective - to bring people closer and impart understanding - a person is permitted to publicize it, even if the sin was not publicly known, and even if it was between himself and Hashem. For there is no disgrace or rebellion against Hashem's word here; on the contrary, he comes to say: "Behold, I too confess that I stumbled in such and such, and afterward I exerted myself and overcame it" - and he comes to show that a person can rectify himself.
And this is what is written: "For after I returned, I repented; and after I was made known, I smote upon my thigh." "I repented" (nechamtí) means remorse and sorrow, and the essence of teshuvah lies in bitterness of heart. As has been explained previously, the greater the bitterness of heart, the greater the atonement. The essence of teshuvah is remorse, and the more a person regrets his actions, the more his teshuvah purifies and cleanses. And "after I was made known" - my sins became known to others, they were publicized, and then "I smote upon my thigh," an act performed publicly. That is, when a sin became known to many, the teshuvah must also be public, for all to see. But when the sin was between him and Hashem, when the sin was in the heart and in thought - "after I returned, I repented," in the heart, between himself and his Maker.
The foundations of teshuvah are three: remorse, confession, and forsaking the sin. Rabbeinu Yonah explains that remorse and confession are both included in "he who confesses" (modeh), for it is impossible for a person to say, "I confess that I did such-and-such," and yet continue in his sin; to truly confess means that one admits what he did and wishes to stop. "And there is no teshuvah consisting of less than these three" - for one who regrets and confesses but does not abandon the sin is like one who immerses in a mikveh while holding an impure reptile (tovel ve-sheretz be-yado). But one who "confesses and forsakes" is worthy of mercy.
Now Rabbeinu Yonah explains our verse: even though a person confesses and forsakes his sin, he should not go about feeling that he has fulfilled his entire obligation - "I did teshuvah for this, last Yom Kippur I confessed, I am pure and clean." Even though he confesses and forsakes, he must always fear that perhaps he has not fulfilled the full measure of teshuvah, for teshuvah requires many levels, and he must gather strength each day to attain those levels. There is someone who did teshuvah and perhaps once performed some tikkun, and already feels pure and holy, half a Baba Sali! If you only knew how much damage in the Upper Worlds is caused by every single sin, and how much rectification it requires, you would understand why "fortunate is the person who fears always." This does not mean a paralyzing fear, but rather walking with the sense that I must still strive, I must still rectify.
From here also stems the halachic ruling that sins one confessed on one Yom Kippur are confessed again on another Yom Kippur. Why should this be, seemingly? After all, I already confessed, and we believe with complete faith that there is atonement and rectification - and whoever says that Yom Kippur does not atone, or doubts its atonement, Yom Kippur does not atone for him! Rather, we must realize that every confession and every feeling of remorse creates further refinement, further cleansing, and another spiritual level. Therefore, we repeatedly confess each year, and through this we achieve yet another level of refinement and cleansing from that sin and iniquity.
Rabbeinu Yonah adds another point: one must also fear lest his inclination renew itself against him. How true these words are! Very often a person goes around with the feeling that this iniquity is behind him, this sin is behind him, completely unaware that the yetzer hara comes in waves. The yetzer hara is extremely sophisticated: it knows that if it floods you all at once, you will stand against it like a fortified wall. Therefore, it comes in a wave, trips you up, and then subsides and retreats - and you feel that, thank God, you have already become a tzaddik. Then suddenly a new wave hits, and you are unprepared, because you were certain that everything was fine with you. It is like someone who used to smoke and at some point quit, convinced it was entirely behind him; then suddenly, at some wedding, around a few friends, here and there - he finds himself deep back into the very habit he had already told everyone was over.
A Chassidic work elaborates on this: sometimes the yetzer hara allows a person to overcome it, letting him win once, so that he feels safe - "What are you talking about? I had another test and knocked it out; it's over, the yetzer hara is finished." This is a well-known military tactic: to draw the enemy in, you give him the feeling that he is conquering a bit of ground, so he becomes complacent and confident that victory is in his hands - and then you ambush him. Such is the method of the yetzer hara: it lets the person win, the person feels, "I am strong," and then it attacks by surprise when he is completely unprepared. Therefore, Rabbeinu Yonah asks, what is the path? "He should guard against it at all times, continually increase fear of Hashem in his soul, and pray to Hashem constantly to assist him in repentance and deliver him from his inclination."
For example: a person who fell into all the pitfalls of the internet, God have mercy - and unfortunately one hears such stories every day - and at a certain point decided to disconnect completely. He holds out for a month, two months, half a year. But later on he "needs" a computer: to type Torah insights, for graphic design, my wife needs it, the children, schooling, and so on. And if you ask him: Are you not afraid? You had a serious problem! He answers: "Listen, thank God, I'm strong now." And thus the yetzer deceives him: it allowed him to overcome once, and since then he feels strong and lets down his guard - and because he does not guard himself, he will inevitably fall again. "He should continually increase fear of Hashem in his heart, and guard against it at all times" - you must feel as though the yetzer hara is standing right here now, constantly remaining on guard just as you were during your initial resolve, as if you are on the verge of falling. Then you will not fall. But if you sink into complacency and reassure yourself that "everything will be fine," you are bound to fall once again.
In the words of Rabbeinu Yonah: "And he who hardens his heart will fall into calamity" - this refers to one who says in his heart, "I have fulfilled the obligation of my repentance," and does not constantly strive to attain the further levels of repentance from his very low baseline and to increase the fear of Heaven in his soul. He will be punished for this, for he is arrogant of heart and does not recognize the deficiency of his soul. Unfortunately, this phenomenon is common among ba'alei teshuvah. A person becomes observant, and within a short time feels that he already knows everything and has mastered all the mechanics. He prays three times a day. If you ask him, "Do you come to the synagogue to learn? There are Torah classes!" he will reply, "It doesn't work out with my schedule, and I don't even study the daily Chok L'Yisrael, but I try very hard." But how can a person without Torah feel secure? After all, a person's absolute prerequisite, the foundation for sustaining his repentance and overcoming his evil inclination, is Torah.
Once people came and told one of the gedolei Yisrael about a certain "tzaddik" who spends the entire day distributing blessings and rectifications (tikkunim). The sage asked, "Tell me, does he also learn Torah?" They answered, "Honored Rav, he has no time for that; he is with the public all day, giving to the community." And of course, they did not mention what the public gives to him - the "renovations" the public finances in the tzaddik's villa. The sage said to them, "I have many questions about what you are saying, but there is one thing I do not understand: through what is he saved from the evil inclination? It is impossible to be saved without Torah, for it is written that the Holy One, Blessed be He, says: 'I created the evil inclination, and I created the Torah as an antidote to it.' There is nothing else. Can you explain to me through what he is protected from the evil inclination?" And there is no need to elaborate - everyone knows and recognizes that time and again, reports unfortunately appear in the media about more such "tzaddikim" whose disgrace is suddenly exposed, bringing about humiliation, wrath, and an appalling chilul Hashem. Without Torah, there is no way to overcome the evil inclination.
This is "he who hardens his heart will fall into calamity": he feels that he has already repented, and consequently no longer needs Torah, no longer needs to continue elevating himself and scrutinizing his deeds; he is content with where he is, and there he stops. In the words of Rabbeinu Yonah, he is arrogant of heart and does not recognize the deficiency of his soul: "And if he does not recognize the greatness of his obligation to improve his ways before Hashem with greater rectitude, he will also not guard himself against his inclination that lies in wait for him constantly." That is to say: if you are not constantly thinking about progress, you are also not being vigilant against the evil inclination - and therefore, he will fall into the hands of his inclination.
Afterward, Rabbeinu Yonah explains "but whoever confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy": the second fundamental principle is abandoning the sin. "Confesses" - regret and confession; "and forsakes" - abandoning the sin. For one who feels regret and confesses but does not abandon the sin will derive no benefit. But as for a man who always stands upon a path that is not good, who persists in his sins and treads upon them every day, who repeats his folly, and rushes back to it many times, who at all times loves evil - to commit wicked deeds - and sets before himself the stumbling block of his iniquity, with only lust, temptation, and the desire of his ambition before his eyes, so that nothing he schemes to do is withheld from him - the beginning of this man's rectification is to abandon his path and his evil thoughts, and to resolve upon himself never to sin again.
"Happy is the man who fears always" - this is not a paralyzing fear, nor is it the fear of a sinner who has what to dread, but a fear that a person intentionally instills in his heart: perhaps I have not fulfilled my duty, perhaps I will stumble, perhaps my evil inclination will renew itself against me. "Love the 'perhaps' and hate the 'what does it matter,'" like the way of the Brisker Rav, for whom the mitzvot were worth more than a million dollars. In contrast stands "he who hardens his heart will fall into calamity" - the stubbornness that destroyed both Temples, and the complacency of one who feels he has completed his obligation, whose end is falling into the hands of the evil inclination. The path is that of Rabbeinu Yonah: confessing and forsaking - regret, confession, and abandonment of sin; confessing before his Creator and not publicizing his sins to other people, except where it involves returning stolen property, appeasing one's fellow, or making a kiddush Hashem to counter a chilul Hashem he caused; and adding each day to his fear of Heaven, Torah study, and prayer that Hashem save him from his evil inclination. And in contrast to the wicked who search for flaws and remind a ba'al teshuvah of his earlier deeds, a person should learn from the way of the righteous, who seek out every good quality in their fellow in order to praise and honor him.