Introduction
At the conclusion of Chapter 29, King Solomon gathers a series of fundamental principles in character development and a person's conduct in his world: pride and humility, partnership with a thief and withholding testimony, anxiety versus trust in Hashem, turning to the ruler versus turning to the Creator of the universe, and finally - the dividing line between the righteous and the wicked. We will examine the verses in order, accompanied by the commentaries of the Malbim, the Vilna Gaon (Gra), Ralbag, and Rabbeinu Yonah.
Pride that Humiliates and Humility that Upholds Honor
גַּאֲוַת אָדָם תַּשְׁפִּילֶנּוּ וּשְׁפַל רוּחַ יִתְמֹךְ כָּבוֹד׃ (כג) - A man's pride shall bring him low, but he that is of a lowly spirit shall uphold honor. (23)
Whoever pursues honor, honor flees from him. One who is arrogant will find that his pride itself brings him humiliation and disgrace. This is also completely natural, as Ralbag explains: a person claims for himself a stature that is not fitting for him, and this causes the truly great people there to bring him down and humiliate him even lower than he deserves. In simple terms: when you enter a place too large for your measure, those who truly belong there feel, "What are you doing here?" - and they push you out. Anyone who forces himself into a setting where he is perceived as an odd misfit finds himself expelled.
King Solomon stated this even more clearly (Mishlei 25:7): "For it is better that it be said to you, 'Come up hither,' than that you should be put lower in the presence of the prince whom your eyes have seen." Why push yourself to the head table? So that the host will later come and say, "Pardon me, honorable sir, Rosh Yeshiva So-and-So has arrived, perhaps your honor could move over a bit..."? It is far better to sit lower down and be told, "Please, honor us and come sit at the head table," than to sit at the head table from the start only to be asked to step down. Ralbag comments on this: "And this is very evident to sensory experience" - meaning, these are things anyone can observe firsthand: one who assumes a status that is not genuinely his only brings disgrace upon himself. So why put yourself in that position?
They tell a story that in the Chofetz Chaim's yeshiva, there was an individual who would come to engage in Torah debates with the yeshiva students, and they sensed he was pursuing honor: constantly seeking validation, fishing for compliments, and holding a high opinion of himself. Young students do not hide what they see, especially when someone provides easy material for jest. The man felt that rather than gaining respect, he was only receiving embarrassment. He eventually approached the Chofetz Chaim and said: "Rebbe, I do not understand - your honor is a Talmid Chacham and a man of Torah, and so am I. How is it that people treat your honor with such immense respect, while toward me they show no proper regard?" The Chofetz Chaim answered him: "It is written that whoever flees from honor, honor pursues him, and vice versa. Perhaps because I flee from honor, honor pursues me; whereas with you it is the reverse, so honor flees from you. Start fleeing from honor, and you will see that honor will pursue you."
What won't a person do for honor? So he began fleeing from honor. Two months later, he returned and said: "Rabbi, it isn't working. I run away from honor, and honor does not even show signs of beginning to chase after me." The Chofetz Chaim told him: "Let me explain the problem. When a person runs from honor, honor sees him running and begins to chase him. But you run while constantly looking over your shoulder to see if honor has started pursuing you yet. Honor begins to chase you, sees you looking back - and stops and turns around. You have to run from honor without looking back." In other words: flee from honor genuinely for the sake of fleeing from honor, not as a technique to attain even more honor. That kind of running was never what Chazal spoke of.
This, then, is the meaning of the verse: when a person is arrogant and demands a standing beyond his true level, that very attitude will bring him low. "But he that is of a lowly spirit shall uphold honor" - one who conducts himself with lowliness and humility will find that honor upholds and strengthens him. When people see someone conducting himself with genuine humility and lowliness of spirit, on the contrary - they admire him, respect him, and seek his closeness.
The Vilna Gaon notes a precise nuance: the verse does not say "and the lowly in spirit will receive honor," but "shall uphold [yitmoch] honor." Why? Because not every person is granted honor according to the measure of his humbling himself before Hashem. Sometimes a person humbles himself and does not receive honor in this world; rather, the Holy One, Blessed be He, preserves his reward for the World to Come. Therefore, there is no guarantee that one who humbles himself will receive honor here. However, if he originally possessed honor and then humbled himself, then "he shall uphold honor": the honor that he once had and which fell away will now be upheld, and he will merit elevation. According to the Gra, then: if he had honor previously and was lowered, his honor will return; but if he had no prior honor and now becomes lowly of spirit, there is no promise that he will receive earthly honor, for Hashem may well be saving the reward of honor for him in the World to Come.
The Malbim explains: an arrogant person demonstrates that he fails to understand his true worth. And what is his worth? That man is like a fading blossom and regarded as nothing - and this itself is "shall bring him low," for this is the greatest degradation of all, when a person does not know his place and imagines himself to possess virtues he does not have. In contrast, the lowly in spirit knows his place, and through this "shall uphold honor." The Malbim adds that this operates as a mechanism of reward and punishment as well: "Pride goes before destruction" - before the Holy One, Blessed be He, breaks a person, He raises him up. "After these things did King Ahasuerus promote" Haman - and from here you can understand: dropping someone from the first floor does not make much of a crash. Hashem elevates him to a height of fifty cubits and hurls him from there - and now the crash is resounding. When the Holy One, Blessed be He, wishes to bring down the wicked, He elevates him high. "A man's pride shall bring him low" - often the very elevation to greatness is intended precisely to bring about his downfall.
Partnering with a Thief and Refusing to Testify
חוֹלֵק עִם־גַּנָּב שׂוֹנֵא נַפְשׁוֹ אָלָה יִשְׁמַע וְלֹא יַגִּיד׃ (כד) - One who shares with a thief hates his own soul; he hears an oath and does not tell.
Here, all the commentators follow a single approach. "One who shares with a thief" refers to a person who is not a thief himself, but merely shares with the thief and benefits from him. As the Ralbag explains, even though he might have some excuse and a point in his defense - "I did not steal; I only received gifts from the thief; this thief is a man of chesed." Someone once shared an incident: in his school, there was a boy who handed out chocolates every day. Where did they come from? He would pass by the grocery store and "collect" them - taking a bit here and a bit there. Everyone knew he was problematic, and the store owner knew it as well. The question was asked: Is one permitted to take from him? The answer: this is outright theft. Moreover, if a person accustoms himself to theft, how will he ever make restitution later? Thus, in practice, even sharing with a thief is strictly forbidden, even though he did not steal himself but merely accepted gifts from the thief.
"Hates his own soul" - the Vilna Gaon cites the verse: "If a soul sins, and hears the voice of an oath, and is a witness, whether he has seen or known of it; if he does not tell it, then he shall bear his iniquity" (Vayikra 5:1). What is "he shall bear his iniquity"? The iniquity of the one who committed the transgression. This refers to someone who witnessed an offense and does not go to testify in beit din. You saw Reuven rob Shimon - come and testify; Shimon was robbed and is helpless. But he says: "I don't want to get involved; I don't want to quarrel with Reuven." And if he does not testify - "he shall bear his iniquity": you become a partner with Reuven and bear his iniquity.
This is what is meant by "hates his own soul," explains the Gra: you are harming your own soul. You cannot say, "I don't care, that is Reuven's problem; let him sort it out with his own World to Come." When you refuse to testify, you hate your own soul and harm yourself - the damage is your own. And what happens in the end? "He hears an oath and does not tell": when he claims, "I don't know, I didn't see," a situation may arise where he is summoned to beit din and put under oath. What will he do then? He already claimed he saw nothing, and he cannot suddenly admit that he did - so he ends up swearing falsely. And why did you get involved in this whole mess in the first place? That person stole, so what do you have to do with it? Why didn't you testify? Thus, the one who shares with a thief both hates his own soul and will ultimately be forced to swear falsely.
Anxiety Versus Trust
חֶרְדַּת אָדָם יִתֵּן מוֹקֵשׁ וּבוֹטֵחַ בַּיהוה יְשֻׂגָּב׃ (כה) - The fear of man brings a snare, but whoever trusts in Hashem shall be set on high.
Rashi explains that the verse is inverted, and should be understood as: "A snare brings about the fear of man." This is similar to the verse "Water wears away stones" (Iyov 14:19) - did stones wear away the water? Rather, water wore away the stones. So too here: when a person has a snare - meaning a sin and obstacle by which he is ensnared - it brings upon him human dread. Sins bring a person anxieties.
The Gra says: in this world, one should not fear, but rather trust in Hashem. As the Gemara recounts in Berachot 60a: a certain student appeared fearful, so Rabbi Yishmael bar Rabbi Yose said to him, "You are a sinner." How did the Rabbi know this? Not through ruach hakodesh, but from the verse, "Sinners in Zion are afraid" (Yeshayahu 33:14) - it is sinners who have fears. One who trusts in Hashem fears nothing; who ought to be afraid? One who sins. In truth, many people live in constant fear - and this is not referring to medical conditions, but to people who are frightened by everything: "Who knows what will happen there," "Don't do that, it's dangerous." Living in constant fear stems largely from a lack of bitachon in Hashem. "But whoever trusts in Hashem shall be set on high" - whoever trusts in Hashem will be saved from all trouble, because he walks with the Master of the Universe. And one who does not says, "It's dangerous, what can I do?" In truth, by your own strength alone you cannot do anything; but how can you fail to realize that Someone else is here with you - "Hashem is your shade at your right hand" (Tehillim 121:5) - the One who will protect you from all evil? As for what is written, "Praiseworthy is the man who always fears" (Mishlei 28:14), the Gemara explains: this was said regarding matters of Torah and mitzvot - fear lest one has stumbled in some matter; that is what it means to "always fear."
This is like the Brisker Rov, of whom it is told that whenever he sent to have matzot baked, he would inquire and investigate: Did you do this? Were you careful with that? Did you ensure this detail? Once, someone said to him, "Rebbe, why be so meticulous? After all, a single witness is believed regarding prohibitions (eid echad ne'eman be'issurin); he tells you it is fine, so rely on him!" The Brisker Rov replied, "Tell me, when a man leaves his house with a hundred thousand dollars, does he just put it in his pocket and walk away? No. He puts it in his pocket, checks every two minutes that it is still there, and at a certain point he takes no chances and clutches his suit pocket with both hands. Is a whirlwind going to come and blow his coat away? Rather, with money like that, one is extremely cautious. And know that for me, a matzah for Pesach is worth more than a million dollars. When someone offers you an opportunity to invest a million dollars, you say, 'Wait, I need to consult investment advisors.' If they tell you, 'A single witness is trustworthy, trust me, hand over the money and it will be invested properly,' you wouldn't rely on that. One does not buy an apartment every day; you check the land registry, you check for liens. On a car, you run a thousand and one checks before buying a piece of metal for ten thousand shekels - and for the sake of a mitzvah, would you not investigate and verify properly?"
It is also told that a certain chassid saw how meticulous and exacting the Brisker Rov was with matzot, even accepting half-charred matzot so there would be no apprehension that any part remained underbaked. The chassid said to him, "My Rebbe, the Admor, once prepared matzot for Pesach for himself, and on the way he met a simple Jew who had also just finished baking his matzot. The Rebbe, having concentrated on all the mystical intentions and performed everything with great trepidation, asked him: Tell me, what intentions did you have in mind while baking your matzot? The man replied: I do not know much, and I have no deep intentions; I only prayed to the Master of the Universe to grant me the most exquisite matzot, that I might merit the most mehudar matzot. The Rebbe was so moved by this simple prayer that he asked to exchange matzot with him - and the simple Jew was overjoyed: matzot from the Rebbe! And those were the matzot the Rebbe ate on Pesach." In effect, the chassid meant to say: why make such a fuss, when simple sincerity is what truly matters? The Brisker Rov replied with characteristic Lithuanian sharpness, "Nu, then that Jew's prayer was answered!" In his eyes, the great winner was the simple Jew: he prayed for the most mehudar matzot, so Heaven arranged for the Admor, with all his stringencies and hiddurim, to give him his matzot. He saw in this not the Rebbe's greatness, but the merit of that Jew, who prayed such a heartfelt prayer that Heaven provided him with the most mehudar matzot.
To return to our topic: in matters of Torah and mitzvot, "Praiseworthy is the man who always fears," but not with nervous anxiety and endless trepidation. A story was once told about the Chazon Ish, who saw a man reciting Keriat Shema and repeating every single word seventeen times. He said to him, "One should not recite Keriat Shema like that; read normally and articulate its letters carefully." The man said, "Rebbe, it is written that for whoever articulates its letters carefully, Gehinnom is cooled for him." The Chazon Ish replied, "True, Gehinnom is cooled for him - but do you want them to put you into a freezer? At this rate, they will place you in deep freeze!" Things should be done sensibly, without nervous anxiety and without all kinds of unfounded dread. Rather, a person should genuinely be one who "always fears" - lest he did not properly fulfill the mitzvah. On the other hand, when a person suffers from anxieties regarding worldly matters, it stems from the "snare" - from the sins that bring him to those fears.
The Ralbag offers a wonderful explanation of "The fear of man brings a snare." An example can be drawn from the animal world: it is often said - even if not scientifically verified - that when a dog sees a person walking with confidence, it will not attack him; but when it sees someone running away or cowering, the dog suddenly acts brave; even a tiny pinscher barks like a rottweiler. What happened? You conveyed the impression that you were afraid, and it seized the opportunity. While this may not be universally true of dogs, with human beings it is one hundred percent certain: the way a person is treated corresponds to the impression he projects. When you project weakness of character, as someone swayed by anything said to him and rattled by every remark, people will criticize you and constantly try to find flaws in you. But if you walk with complete confidence in what you do - and this is not referring to foolishness, but to positive matters - it will cause others not to search for flaws in you or attempt to attack you, because they see that you carry yourself with integrity and confidence. But when you act apologetic, people will try to extract apologies from you and push you against the wall.
This aligns closely with what we find regarding the spies: "And we were in our own eyes like grasshoppers, and so we were in their eyes." Rashi notes that they overheard the inhabitants saying, "There are ants in the vineyards." One may ask: the verse itself says grasshoppers, and a grasshopper is larger than an ant - why did the inhabitants call them ants? The answer is that once we viewed ourselves as grasshoppers, others viewed us as ants. If you see yourself as a grasshopper, your fellow will see you as an ant. He will not settle for seeing you as a grasshopper, because people inevitably evaluate others as less than they evaluate themselves. A person always overestimates his own worth and underestimates that of his fellow. For this reason, it was once noted that while one may not utter falsehoods in a eulogy - one must not claim the deceased prayed at dawn every day if he did not, or call a miser who never gave a penny to charity a "man of lovingkindness" - Halachah permits adding a slight exaggeration. How can one be allowed to "add a little"? Is a slight falsehood permissible? Rather, adding a little actually reflects the truth. Since we naturally perceive our fellow as slightly less than he truly is and ourselves as slightly more, adding a small amount to his praise brings the description to his true measure. So too here: when I view myself as a grasshopper, the person facing me will see me as an ant. But if you carry yourself like a lion, the person facing you will see you at least as a wolf - someone not to be trifled with, because you project genuine strength and confidence.
The Ralbag writes similarly: when a person is fearful and hesitant, that very fear incites others to harm and despoil him, because they recognize that they will easily prevail over him. When someone senses hesitation, he knows he can strike and finish the job; but when he sees someone approaching with deep confidence, it inspires respect and caution, and he hesitates to pick a fight. This holds true in every realm, including spiritual life. At work, in public, and even at home: when a person projects uncertainty in what he is doing, it invariably invites demands for compromise from the other side. "Why can't you skip the class today, what happened?" "Just eat this, it's not the end of the world" - because they saw that you merely "prefer" kosher when convenient. But if you had said firmly: "I cannot eat this; if it is not kosher, I do not touch it" - they realize they are dealing with a person of principle, and within a month or two they will adapt and respect your needs. When you project weakness from the outset and say, "I have a slight issue with this," the other side takes full advantage. The same applies to a man who tells his wife: "I do not miss my Torah class." When she sees that he is dedicated to this not only at her expense but at his own expense as well - even when she needs help with shopping, she knows he does not compromise on his study, and she does not ask him to cancel, knowing that he gives his very soul for it.
The Ralbag adds concerning the second half of the verse: a person who trusts in Hashem and fears nothing due to the depth of his trust - even when facing something that would ordinarily justify some apprehension - will be fortified and saved from that danger. This was demonstrated by David, who strengthened himself in Hashem his God to pursue the raiding troop that burned Ziklag, and similarly by Chizkiyahu when confronted by Sennacherib. When you place your trust in Hashem, deliverances occur that reach far beyond your natural strength.
The Malbim illustrates this with Hillel: when a person trusts in Hashem, he is shielded and freed from anxiety. It is told of Hillel that when entering a city and hearing a cry of distress, he declared: "I am confident that this is not coming from my home" - because one who trusts in Hashem is kept safe. Hillel said: I possess such trust that I am certain Hashem would not bring such an ordeal upon me, as it is written: "He shall not fear evil tidings; his heart is steadfast, trusting in Hashem." Others explain this differently: how could Hillel be so sure the tragedy was not in his home? After all, misfortunes happen to righteous people as well. Rather, Hillel meant: I have raised my household so that whatever occurs, they do not scream in despair; they trust in Hashem and know that everything comes from Him, blessed be He. Therefore, I am certain that if a scream is heard, it is not from my house; in my home they were taught not to scream, and if misfortune strikes, they accept it with love. The Malbim, however, explains according to the plain meaning: Hillel trusted in Hashem that trouble would not befall him.
To Whom Does One Truly Turn?
רַבִּים מְבַקְשִׁים פְּנֵי מוֹשֵׁל וּמֵיהוה מִשְׁפַּט אִישׁ׃ (כו) - Many seek the ruler's favor, but a man's judgment comes from Hashem. (26)
Here too, the commentators speak in unison. "Many seek the ruler's favor" - Ibn Ezra explains that "many" refers to prominent individuals, related to the word rav (great), while the other commentators explain it as referring to people in general. When facing trial, they plead before the ruler: they seek favoritism, try to secure a pardon through connections, and take every possible measure so the ruler will grant them clemency and let them off with a light penalty or no punishment at all. This was especially prevalent in earlier times, when an absolute monarch could arbitrarily decide to dismiss a case entirely, unrestrained by standardized rules or mandatory minimum sentences. But what do they forget? "A man's judgment comes from Hashem." The Malbim observes: it would have been far more fitting for them to seek the presence of Hashem, for judgment comes solely from Him; all is under His providence, and He directs the ruler's heart as He wills.
To what can this be compared? To a person who has run into trouble with an inspector harassing him over a minor infraction, while the mayor happens to be his close friend - yet he spends his time arguing with the inspector and trying to appease him. What foolishness! The mayor is your friend; a single word to the mayor and the inspector immediately backs down. Why get bogged down with the inspector? The exact same applies here: this ruler is less than an inspector, for above him stands the ultimate Sovereign of the universe, the Holy One, blessed be He. Instead of establishing a direct relationship with the Master of the Universe, a person forgets Him and invests his efforts in dealing with the inspector, the human ruler, the authority down below. A person should turn directly to the Master of the Universe - that is the true path. Do not misunderstand: human effort is required, and one must act responsibly in the world, but we must never forget that the true address is the Master of the Universe, and that is where our primary investment must be made.
Mutual Abhorrence Between the Righteous and the Wicked
תּוֹעֲבַת צַדִּיקִים אִישׁ עָוֶל וְתוֹעֲבַת רָשָׁע יְשַׁר דָּרֶךְ׃ (כז) - An unjust man is an abomination to the righteous, and one whose way is upright is an abomination to the wicked. (27)
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: the righteous abhor the wicked, as it is written, "An unjust man is an abomination to the righteous." When dealing with a genuinely wicked person, the righteous feel revulsion toward him on account of his evil deeds. However, regarding one who is neither wicked nor righteous - they neither abhor him nor bless him; he stands in the middle, neither despised nor beloved, neither cursed nor praised. "But the person whom you know and whose ways you have examined, seeing that he has no fear of God before his eyes and constantly sets himself on a corrupt path - it is a mitzvah to speak of his disgrace, expose his sins, and bring shame upon deliberate transgressors in the eyes of others, so that the listeners will feel deep revulsion toward evil deeds."
In other words, when dealing with a truly corrupt person, one ought to expose his disgraceful behavior and make it known publicly. This applies specifically to the kind of person Rabbeinu Yonah defines: a deliberate transgressor whose conduct has been verified, who has no fear of God before his eyes, and who consistently chooses an evil path. From such an individual one must distance oneself, stay far from his corrupted views, and warn children to keep away from him. Otherwise, people might think: "He's actually quite nice, don't judge him so harshly, he isn't that bad." Rabbeinu Yonah makes it clear: not only is this not a violation of the laws of lashon hara, but it is a positive mitzvah to discredit persistent evildoers in the eyes of the public. There are those who consider themselves exceptionally pious and say, "That is lashon hara!" - yet Rabbeinu Yonah teaches the exact opposite: in such a case, it is a mitzvah.
And it is said: "The fear of Hashem is to hate evil." One who has fear of Hashem in his heart hates evil. He cannot see evil and say, "It's fine, I get along with him, he is actually nice, he has virtues, he has good qualities." Would you say that about someone who spits on your father day and night - "he also has good qualities"? Think logically: how can one speak favorably about a wicked person? The true gauge of fear of Heaven is the degree to which a person hates evil and wickedness.
The Gemara in Sanhedrin (52a) states: A wicked person who is the son of a righteous person - one is permitted to call him a wicked person the son of a wicked person, in order to distance people from him; and a righteous person who is the son of a wicked person - one is permitted to call him a righteous person the son of a righteous person, in order to draw him near. Furthermore, from the very fact that this individual is a tzaddik, it is evident that his father possessed some merit that enabled him to father such a righteous son; whereas with a wicked person, since such a wicked son emerged from him, it is an indication that there was also some flaw in his father that produced such a wicked son.
The Gra notes a nuance in the phrasing of the verse: "The abomination of the righteous [tzaddikim]" is plural, whereas it subsequently says "the abomination of the wicked [rasha]" in the singular, when it should have said "the abomination of the wicked [resha'im, plural] is the upright of way." Why does it speak of the righteous in the plural and the wicked in the singular? The Gra explains: Because the wicked, even when gathered in their group, will not openly speak against the righteous man, since they know he walks in an upright path and cannot find fault with him. One would say to his fellow, "Come now, what do you have against him? What can you say about him? Point out a flaw, find a defect in him." Yet in the heart of each and every wicked person, Hashem knows that he detests the tzaddik. Therefore, it says "the abomination of the wicked" in the singular - because only the individual rasha, within himself, harbors what is in his heart. In contrast, the righteous, when they gather in their sacred company, proclaim openly and unvarnished the evil of the wicked person, publicize his disgrace, declare that this man is a person of iniquity, and distance themselves from him in every way - and therefore it says, "An unjust man is an abomination to the righteous," in the plural.
The Malbim explains: Good hates evil and evil hates good, to the point where each finds the path of the other to be an abomination. Good and evil are two diametric opposites, and therefore genuine good cannot tolerate evil or make peace with it, and genuine evil cannot tolerate good and opposes its path. It emerges that each intrinsically loathes the way of the other.
From here emerges a profound lesson: Sometimes a person does not appear wicked to us, but we observe that he detests the righteous - what does this reveal? That he is wicked, for one who harbors wickedness detests the righteous. And conversely: there may be a person who does not appear particularly righteous, who is far from perfect, yet one sees that he possesses a great love for tzaddikim, for Torah scholars, for yeshivah students, and for servants of Hashem - know that he possesses a virtuous quality, and that he is aligned with and bound to goodness. For one who is connected to the good loves what is good and hates the wicked, and one who is connected to evil loves what is evil and hates the righteous. If you wish to know who a person truly is, observe whom he hates, and evaluate him accordingly: if he hates the righteous, know that he is wicked; and if he hates the wicked, know that he is righteous.
In summary:
The conclusion of the chapter presents us with a clear scale. Arrogance itself brings debasement, while humility upholds honor - and when a person recognizes his true place and worth, he has no need to chase after honor that does not belong to him. One who partners with a thief is not "clean," and one who remains silent instead of testifying bears the guilt of the sin himself, harming his own soul to the point of false oaths. The anxieties a person lives with stem from the snare he sets with his own hands, whereas he who trusts in Hashem is set securely on high and does not fear bad tidings; moreover, one who projects trust and security does not invite others to push him around. So too regarding worldly authority: one must never forget that the true address is not the ruler, but the Master of the Universe, from Whom a man's judgment proceeds and Who directs the heart of the ruler. And finally - good and evil are two opposing poles that cannot dwell together, and therefore the true test of a person is whom he loves and whom he detests: "The fear of Hashem is to hate evil."