Following the questions and answers at the beginning of the chapter, Agur ben Yakeh turns to a personal petition that he asks of the Holy One, blessed be He. Rashi, as well as the Gra who follows the same line of thought, explains that here Agur is speaking before Hashem. The Gra adds that Agur also wrote this prayer for his students: since we saw that Itiel and Uchal asked him questions, he wrote down for them the petition he requests from Hashem as well. At its plain level, this request is for a middle path in material matters, and in its depth, a prayer for the perfection of the soul and intellect.
שְׁתַּיִם שָׁאַלְתִּי מֵאִתָּךְ אַל תִּמְנַע מִמֶּנִּי בְּטֶרֶם אָמוּת׃ - Two things have I asked of You; do not deny them to me before I die.
The Ralbag explains: Agur asks these questions in order to attain perfection in the service of Hashem through them. Since after death there is no further advantage for a person and one cannot advance spiritually, he therefore pleads, "before I die" - answer them for me now, "for the acquisition of perfection is not renewed for man except during his lifetime," as he phrases it. That I may know the proper path while I am still alive.
The Malbim, on the other hand, explains that "before I die" refers to the death of the soul. The questions touched on matters of spirituality and philosophy, and there is great concern that without the proper answers in hand, I might be swayed by the path of the philosophers: those who believed in the eternity of the universe, those who thought that the Creator, as it were, was also created, and other vain notions of ancient philosophy. Therefore he pleads: Master of the Universe, do not withhold the answers from me before I suffer the death of the soul through the corrupt ideas of the philosophers, "who weave spiderwebs and envision false and misleading burdens," in the words of the Malbim.
שָׁוְא וּדְבַר כָּזָב הַרְחֵק מִמֶּנִּי רֵאשׁ וָעֹשֶׁר אַל תִּתֶּן לִי הַטְרִיפֵנִי לֶחֶם חֻקִּי׃ - Remove falsehood and deceitful words far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me my allocated bread.
פֶּן אֶשְׂבַּע וְכִחַשְׁתִּי וְאָמַרְתִּי מִי ה' וּפֶן אִוָּרֵשׁ וְגָנַבְתִּי וְתָפַשְׂתִּי שֵׁם אֱלֹהָי׃ - Lest I be full and deny, saying, 'Who is Hashem?' or lest I be impoverished and steal, and profane the Name of my God.
These two verses form a single sequence, and all the commentators connect them. The word reish (רֵאשׁ) is spelled here with an alef, but the alef is silent, and its meaning derives from rash and rashut - poverty. That is: do not give me poverty on the one hand, nor wealth on the other. And what then? "Feed me my allocated bread" (lechem chuki) - what I need according to a set portion, for chok means a measured and fixed allotment.
Rabbeinu Yonah emphasizes: the second is worse than the first. The first - "lest I be full and deny, saying, 'Who is Hashem?'" - is very grave, in the manner of "Yeshurun grew fat and kicked." But the second - "lest I be impoverished and steal, and profane the Name of my God" - is even worse, for out of poverty I may steal, and then swear falsely by the Name of Hashem. As it is written: "As for you, house of Israel, so says the Lord God: Go, serve every one his idols, and hereafter if you will not listen to Me; but do not profane My holy Name any more." From here we see that Chillul Hashem (desecration of the Divine Name) is graver than idol worship, and the sin of one who swears falsely in court is more severe than the punishment of one who serves idols in secret - because it contains the desecration of Hashem's Name.
The Vilna Gaon explains: "Vanity" (shav) refers to something that is fundamentally false from the very outset, like a vain oath (shevuat shav) - from the start, when I spoke the words, I had no intention of fulfilling them. "Falsehood" (kazav), on the other hand, is related to a dried-up brook (nachal achzav), and to the verse, "Do not deceive your maidservant" - was she merely asking him not to lie to her? Far from it; rather: do not give me a salvation that will abruptly cease. Kazav describes something whose beginning is good, but in the end it disappoints and cuts off in the middle. These are the two things with which Agur opens his request. Then he adds: "Give me neither poverty nor riches" - neither extreme destitution nor extreme wealth; I have no desire to be at either extreme. What do I want? "Feed me my allotted bread" - only the sustenance that is strictly necessary for me.
The Malbim, following his approach in the preceding verses, steers the matter toward the spiritual realm. Just as "before I die" refers to the spiritual death of the soul, so too does this request. "Remove far from me vanity and falsehood" - that I should not be impoverished in understanding. Being "poor in knowledge" means one who fails to comprehend Hashem's providence and His ways, and consequently comes to believe in vain beliefs: the empty doctrines of philosophers, or the beliefs of idol-worshiping nations.
On the other hand, excessive wealth in knowledge is also not good. At first glance, this requires explanation: what could be wrong with being rich in intellect? The Malbim explains: "Lest my intellect become too rich, breaking out into excessive philosophical inquiry." In other words, out of sheer intellectual sharpness, one might delve into spiritual matters with excessive speculation - and we have already seen those who entered the Pardes and were ruined. Wealth in intellect also carries danger: one can reach points that lead to heresy and flawed conclusions, as happened to Elisha ben Avuyah (Acher) after seeing Metatron seated upon a throne. So too with researchers and philosophers who attained lofty insights through inquiry, and consequently concluded that the universe is primordial like the Creator, from which they derived corrupted conclusions. Therefore, Agur prays: Master of the Universe, do not give me too much wealth in intellect either.
And what is "my allotted bread" in the allegory? The Malbim explains: it is the wisdom of the Torah, through which one reaches the proper boundary, and it serves as the bread of the soul - "Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine that I have mingled." This is the wisdom required and fitting for a person, the exact measure needed to attain spirituality at an adequate level.
The parable in the verse, says the Malbim, refers literally to physical, material wealth. Physical wealth leads a person to arrogance, and arrogance leads him to heresy - "Lest I become full, and deny You, and say: Who is Hashem?"
Rabbeinu Yonah adds: as long as a person pursues the desires of his heart, he is drawn after the nature of matter - after physical indulgence, lusts, and worldliness - and distances himself from the service of Hashem. In his words: "He distances himself from the path of the rational soul." When a person binds himself to materiality, his evil inclination overpowers him, for the yetzer pulls toward the physical, as it is written, "And Yeshurun grew fat and kicked." And our Sages taught: There is a small organ in a person; satisfy it and it is hungry, starve it and it is satisfied. Thus, satiety leads to hunger. In light of this, one can interpret "and I deny" (vechichashti) not only in the sense of lying, but also from the root of emaciation (kachush): whatever you think will satisfy you in a sin will, on the contrary, leave you more depleted.
The reality is that in most cases, when a person becomes wealthy, he tends to treat mitzvot lightly. Very few extremely wealthy individuals are also deeply God-fearing. In contrast, one finds many poor people who possess great fear of Heaven and are accomplished Torah scholars - "Be mindful of the children of the poor, for from them Torah will go forth." Naturally, a wealthy person begins to grow proud. Furthermore, he runs numerous businesses and is preoccupied with multiplying and guarding his money. How many wealthy people do we see diligent in Torah study? How many of them even attend Torah classes? A Torah class - after all, in his own eyes he could teach you; he could give you life insights; he is the one who understands how the world works. Would he go sit and listen to someone else? At most, he keeps a personal rabbi on retainer, bought with money and paid a salary, to accompany him everywhere and manage his religious affairs - but to actually sit and learn with him? That is already asking too much.
A story is told of a man who approached a rabbi and said: "My father passed away, and I am in the middle of a massive real estate deal; I have no time to sit shiva. I heard that one can pay someone to recite Kaddish - can I hire someone to sit shiva in my place?" The rabbi replied: "Sure, why not." The man walked out cheerful and satisfied, but two minutes later he returned: "Honored Rabbi, one quick follow-up question - do I also need to go console him?" Such is the wealthy man: he arranges everything with money, solving every problem through his wealth.
Concerning this, Agur declares: Master of the Universe, I know that if I have wealth - "and your heart will become haughty, and you will forget Hashem your God." And why did the Torah command, "He shall not multiply silver and gold for himself"? Because they will turn his heart away. And we saw that this happened even to Shlomo, the wisest of all men. Money is an exceptionally difficult trial.
The Chafetz Chaim once observed a fast over a troubling dream. People asked him, "Why is the Rav fasting?" He answered, "I dreamt - may it not happen to us or to you - that I became wealthy." They said to him, "For that you fast? We would make a se'udat mitzvah; what a kiddush we would host!" He replied, "This is a bad dream whichever way you look at it. If the dream indicates that I will become wealthy - woe to me! The trial of poverty is difficult enough; would you have me face the trial of wealth as well, which is seven times harder? And if you say that this will not actually occur, but is merely the wandering of my heart - that is even worse: that during the day I walk around thinking about how to make money, and at night I even dream that I became rich! Where is my mind?"
When a person has wealth, he can arrive at the state expressed by Bar Kochba: "Neither support nor shame" - Master of the Universe, we can manage on our own; I with my might, we will win the entire campaign. Do not help us, but do us a favor and do not spoil things either. We can hardly fathom such a statement, yet it appears in the Gemara. And it is no wonder that they called him Bar Koziva - from the very root we discussed, disappointment and falsehood: there were hopes, there were expectations, Rabbi Akiva considered him to be the Mashiach, and we saw how he ended up.
And sometimes a person feels the same way financially: Master of the Universe, just do not interfere; thank God I am riding high, everything is fine, I am doing great on my own. But "It is He Who gives you strength to achieve wealth," and the Targum translates: counsel to acquire property. That is, not only is your good fortune from Hashem - which anyone understands - but even your ideas. A person says, "I had an idea to start such-and-such a business, and today I am a millionaire." That idea, too, came from Hashem. Yet the sated person denies this and says, "It is all from me," forgetting his Creator.
And on the other hand: "Lest I become impoverished" - that I become utterly poor, lacking food and clothing in my home, "and steal, and profane the Name of my God." The Vilna Gaon offers a wonderful explanation: "And I will seize the Name of my God" - meaning that I will seize upon the Attribute of Justice for having made me so poor, and I will complain against Your ways. As if to say, "I take Hashem to task": Master of the Universe, why am I poor? Why am I suffering? That is, out of poverty he will steal, will be punished, and as a result will harbor grievances against the Holy One, Blessed be He. Thus, great wealth is a danger and great poverty is likewise a danger - and therefore, "Feed me my allotted bread."
In truth, there were Sages who possessed immense wealth, and the Gemara notes that they merited "Torah and greatness in one place" - such as Rebbe, Rav Ashi, Elazar ben Charsom, and others. Rav Dessler addresses this in *Michtav Me-Eliyahu* (Vol. 4, p. 23), discussing the concept of property ownership: a person possesses no true ownership over anything in this world, because everything he has here is merely tools for His service, blessed be He. There is a fundamental error in the very notion of "ownership." It is like an employer who provides you with a car to drive - the car does not belong to you; it is a tool to fulfill his missions, and you cannot view yourself as its owner. If you are driving an armored car carrying a million dollars, you cannot feel like a millionaire. There was once someone who felt that way and mistakenly drove it home, thoroughly confused. The vehicle is not yours and the money is not yours. This is how a person must feel: everything I have in this world is for the service of Hashem, and its sole purpose is to serve the Creator.
Wealth is the same - it is merely a tool for His service, blessed be He. Rav Dessler adds that Torah and greatness in one place can only exist when a person possesses humility and self-nullification; then he serves Hashem with wholeness and merits both. But if a person "takes up space," it is impossible to grant him both. He cites the words of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov on the Gemara's statement: "One who wishes to become wealthy should turn north, and one who wishes to become wise should turn south." North represents wealth and south represents wisdom. Seemingly, a person cannot be both wealthy and wise at the same time, for he cannot be in the north and the south simultaneously. And he resolves it: if you are humble, you do not take up space; and one who takes up no space can be everywhere.
The meaning of this, Rav Dessler explains, is: when I do not feel, "The wisdom is mine, I became wise, and I am something," or "The wealth is mine, I became rich, and I am something" - you do not take up space. It turns out that both wisdom and wealth are tools for the service of Hashem through self-nullification, humility, and a sense of servitude, and then one can merit both. But one who takes pride in his wisdom or his wealth takes up space, and then wisdom and wealth become spiritual trials. And a person cannot be subjected to two such difficult trials together; that burden is simply too heavy.
There is also a fine nuance in the phrasing: it does not say "Torah and wealth in one place," but rather "Torah and greatness in one place." And what is greatness? We say this every morning: "Yours, Hashem, are the greatness, the might, the glory, the victory, and the majesty" - according to the order of the Sefirot, where greatness (*gedulah*) is lovingkindness (*chesed*), as the early commentators explain. And whom does this refer to? To the wealthy person who understands that financial greatness was granted to him in order to perform acts of lovingkindness with others. This is self-nullification: this is not money I received because I deserve it, but tools I was given with which to serve the Creator. When you live in this reality, you merit Torah and greatness in one place. But if wealth is merely financial comfort for myself - two such things are not given to a person, for as a spiritual trial, that burden is too heavy.
Here the Vilna Gaon expands and explains: There are two very bad flaws among those who study Torah. The first is a person who studies with ulterior motives, in order to provoke and find fault: to raise difficulties, to come and argue from the Torah itself, "You religious people do such-and-such, and that goes against the Torah!" His entire study is aimed at provocation, which is terrible and corrupt, and about such a person Chazal said: It would have been better for him had his afterbirth turned over his face. Such study, says the Vilna Gaon, is called learning of shav (falsehood from the outset) - for shav is something inherently false from its very inception, corrupt from the start.
And the second is a person who studies without any ulterior motive, truly for the sake of Heaven, but at some stage departs from the Torah and goes after his own affairs. As we find with Menachem, who lived in the generation of Hillel and departed from the Torah to enter the service of the king. Such study, says the Vilna Gaon, is called kazav (deception and disappointment): it cannot be called shav, because it was not inherently false from the beginning, but it ultimately failed and disappointed - there were expectations, yet they proved false and ceased.
Based on this, the Vilna Gaon explains what we pray each day: "And place in our hearts His love and His fear, and to serve Him with a whole heart, so that we shall not labor in vain, nor bring forth for terror." These two phrases correspond to these two categories. There are two types of women who have no children: there is a barren woman who has never given birth, and there is, Heaven forbid, a woman who gives birth, yet after all her labor buries her children - and she is the one described as "bringing forth for terror."
One who studies Torah with ulterior motives in order to provoke, which is the aspect of shav, is the person who labors in vain. All his labor is empty and false, for his entire study is for provocation, and in his eyes the Torah is empty and devoid of substance; this person is like a barren woman whose study bears no fruit. In contrast, one who began studying truly for the sake of Heaven but at a certain stage left, which is the aspect of kazav, is like one who brings forth for terror: there was conception, there was birth, there was study, there was wonderful Torah, yet what did he do with it in the end? He buried all that he brought forth. Thus he even lost what he learned initially, as Chazal said, "One who studied and then departed is the most severe of all," or in other words, he regrets his former good deeds. Regarding this we pray: "We shall not labor in vain" - like those who study to provoke, whose learning is shav and empty from the outset; "nor bring forth for terror" - that we not abandon our learning after having studied properly, like a woman who gives birth and buries her child.
The Vilna Gaon continues: This is the meaning of the verse, "The fear of Hashem is pure, enduring forever." When a person studies without the fear of Heaven, that is the reason why, after having studied and achieved, he ultimately leaves the Torah. For he lacks awe, and "Fools despise wisdom and discipline," and if there is no fear of God, there is no wisdom. As Rabbi Yannai proclaimed: "Woe to one who has no courtyard, yet makes an entrance gate for a courtyard!" A magnificent, electric gate standing in thin air, with nothing behind it - where a house ought to be standing. We may laugh, but this is often a person's reality: he learns Torah without fear of Heaven, building a gate without a house, and his wisdom does not endure within him.
And when will Torah study not be kazav, a study that disappoints and breaks off, in the manner of one who learned and departed? When a person joins the fear of Heaven to his Torah study. Then he possesses two virtues: "The fear of Hashem is pure" - he has no ulterior motives, learning in purity, purely for the sake of Heaven and the honor of the Creator; "enduring forever" - this is not kazav that cuts off midway, but learning that endures forever, and he never departs from the Torah. According to this, one can also understand the opening of the prayer: we ask that Hashem place His love and fear in our hearts, so that once fear of Heaven is within us, we will not labor in vain nor bring forth for terror, for we will learn truly for the sake of Heaven and will never abandon the Torah.
The request of Agur bin Yakeh is a plea for the middle path. In the literal sense (peshat): neither poverty nor wealth, but rather "the bread of my allotted portion" - his measured sustenance, for wealth leads to arrogance and denial ("Lest I be full and deny, and say, 'Who is Hashem?'") while poverty leads to theft and complaint against divine justice ("and steal, and profane the name of my God"). In the allegorical meaning (nimshal), according to the Malbim: neither poverty of intellect, which leads to vain beliefs, nor excessive intellectual wealth, which leads to reckless philosophical inquiry and delusion. The Vilna Gaon teaches the distinction between shav - that which is false from its inception, and kazav - a good beginning that is abruptly cut short, applying this to Torah study: one who learns to provoke labors in vain like a barren woman, while one who departs after learning brings forth for terror. The remedy for both is one and the same: the fear of Heaven, which is pure and endures forever. Through it, wealth, wisdom, and all the tools of this world become instruments for His service, blessed be He, in humility and self-effacement.