Chapter 10 of Mishlei opens the second section of the book - a collection of concise proverbs, where each verse is a world unto itself, and most are structured by contrast: righteous versus wicked, wise versus foolish, integrity versus deceit. In this lesson, we will explore several verses of the chapter in light of the commentaries of Rashi, the Gra, and the Malbim, seeing how each commentator opens a different perspective on the very same words.
חֲכַם־לֵב יִקַּח מִצְוֺת וֶאֱוִיל שְׂפָתַיִם יִלָּבֵט׃ (ח) - The wise in heart will take mitzvot, but a babbling fool will stumble. (8)
Rashi cites the words of the Midrash: "The wise in heart" refers to Moshe Rabbeinu. While all of Israel was busy collecting the spoils of Egypt, he was busy with mitzvot, as it says, "And Moshe took the bones of Yosef with him." Yet seemingly, what special wisdom is displayed here? They are going to collect money, and he is going to take the coffin of Yosef - after all, we all understand through simple logic that what Moshe did was the right thing, and we would all have acted as he did.
In truth, however, what the people did was also a mitzvah. The Holy One, blessed be He, Himself commanded: "Speak now in the ears of the people, and let every man ask of his neighbor, and every woman of her neighbor, vessels of silver and vessels of gold and garments" - so that that righteous man, Avraham, would not say: "'And they shall serve them, and they shall afflict them' He fulfilled in them, but 'and afterward they shall leave with great wealth' He did not fulfill in them." Thus, there was a mitzvah for the people of Israel to take the spoils; this is what Hashem desired and commanded. On the other hand, finding Yosef's coffin and carrying his bones for burial in the Land of Israel was also a mitzvah. The question, then, is: how does one know what to choose when both paths are mitzvot?
To this the verse responds: "The wise in heart will take mitzvot" - the wise person knows which mitzvot to take. And this is the principle: the mitzvah in which you experience less personal pleasure is the superior mitzvah. This also makes logical sense: in a mitzvah that brings personal enjoyment, there is substantial room to suspect that self-interest is involved. Do you love this mitzvah because you love fulfilling the will of Hashem, or because you love yourself? A person might say: "Why do you say I do not fulfill mitzvot? You eat three meals on Shabbat, and I eat six; I eat the entire Shabbat without stopping!" Eating on Shabbat is indeed a mitzvah - but what is more important, eating or sitting down to learn Torah? A mitzvah where a significant part is your personal pleasure does not express the love of Hashem like a mitzvah in which you have no personal gratification at all, where it becomes evident that you act solely because Hashem commanded it.
Moshe Rabbeinu could have said: "I will go and gather the spoils of Egypt; this, too, is Hashem's command." But Hashem had commanded another matter as well, and it is better to pursue that which Hashem commanded where one derives no personal pleasure, rather than that which Hashem commanded where one derives pleasure, since in the latter case there is significant doubt whether it is done purely for the sake of Heaven.
And if you should say: after all, did Moshe not lose out in the end - everyone left with millions, and he was left only with a mitzvah? To this you are told: do not worry, there is a place where the Holy One, blessed be He, pays. Moshe Rabbeinu became immensely wealthy. And from where? From the chips of the Luchot. The Holy One, blessed be He, gave him a block of sapphire, an extremely precious stone, and told him: "Carve the tablets out of this, and the remnants shall be yours" - and from this Moshe became wealthy. We learn: do not fear that pursuing a mitzvah will cause you to lose; "the wise in heart takes mitzvot," and ultimately the Holy One, blessed be He, rewards you even for what seemed like a loss.
"But a babbling fool will stumble" - according to Rashi, this refers to the fool who does not go to collect mitzvot for himself, and therefore "yilavet": he will toil and achieve nothing.
The Vilna Gaon explains the verse differently, based on the Gemara in Sanhedrin (26b, and Rashi there), that planning disrupts even matters of Heaven - as the saying goes, thought and speech undermine even heavenly undertakings. When a person says, "Tomorrow I will wake up early to learn this chapter," the Gra explains, he will ultimately stumble and fail to keep his word. Why? Because the moment you declare outright with your mouth, "I am going to do this," you mobilize the yetzer hara; it sees that you are advancing with full force, and therefore it unleashes heavy artillery against you.
This is "a prating fool shall fall" - the fool declares with his lips, "Tomorrow I will do it." He has grand plans and proclamations, but in the end he falters (yilavet): he fails and stumbles, because once you speak it aloud, the yetzer hara takes you on as a project. But the "wise of heart will take commandments" - not tomorrow, but right now; the moment he is told what needs to be done, he gets up and does it, leaving no opportunity for the yetzer hara to intervene.
Through this, we can understand the words of King David: "I considered my ways, and turned my feet unto Your testimonies." Everyone asks: Could David not have simply gone to the Beit Midrash first thing in the morning? Why did he describe planning to go here and there, only to find himself heading to the Beit Midrash in the end? Rather, King David understood this wisdom. He would tell himself: Today we will see; if I have time left at the end of the day, with God's help I will go to the Beit Midrash, but first I have a few errands to run. Then he would step outside - and head straight into the Beit Midrash. In this way, the yetzer hara leaves him alone and cannot prevail over him. But had he announced, "Tomorrow at six in the morning I will be in the Beit Midrash," he would have woken up to the clock chiming ten.
The Malbim explains: The chacham (wise person), as we have consistently explained, is one who conducts himself according to the ways of wisdom, and wisdom is essentially mussar - the discernment to decide between good and evil. This wisdom faces a constant adversary: the yetzer hara. Wisdom dictates that one may not take what is not his, while the yetzer says, "I feel like it"; wisdom dictates that one may not look and that it is immodest, while the yetzer pulls in the opposite direction. The wise man fights this battle constantly, until he reaches a level where he masters his drives, his desires, and his lusts, having subdued his heart to the point where the heart itself no longer desires what is bad.
Such an individual is called "wise of heart" (chacham lev), for worldly desires reside in the heart, and the heart is the governing force within man - as in "my heart tells me," or "You have given him his heart's desire." One who has succeeded in subjugating his heart so that it is drawn only to good finds that performing good deeds has become second nature to him. He sees money and has no internal conflict over whether to steal it or not; an improper desire presents itself and there are no two sides to the question, because the reign of wisdom, mussar, and Torah over his heart is absolute.
What, then, is the difference between him and a wise person who is not "wise of heart"? He too observes the commandments and behaves according to Hashem's commands, but he does not "take" mitzvot. The Malbim notes that the phrase "takes commandments" appears nowhere else in all of Tanach except here. A "mitzvah" (commandment) implies that someone commands you to do something: you act not because you desire it or understand it, but because a command was issued and you are bound to it. Were it not for the command, I would desire many other things, and I fulfill it only because I was given no choice. "Taking," however, is the exact opposite: one acts willingly, takes up the mitzvah with joy, and eagerly pursues it.
And who truly pursues mitzvot? Only the wise of heart. Naturally, a person does not "take" a mitzvah; he fulfills it as one who is commanded, compelled by the divine directive. But the wise of heart experiences no inner battle; wisdom already reigns within him, and his heart is completely subservient to wisdom. Therefore, he takes up the mitzvot naturally and joyfully, as his own cherished acquisition.
The evil (fool), as we have explained, is different from the kesil: the kesil knows all the wisdom but fails to act on it because of his desires; the evil is related to the word ulai (perhaps) - he doubts everything: Who said so? What is the proof? How do you know? Why must it be so? This is the mindset of skepticism, casting doubt upon everything. Do you exist? Who says? There was a philosopher who said, "I think, therefore I am," yet the skeptic asks: Who says that you exist? And if you reply, "Well, I see," he will deliver an entire lecture on how sight deceives man: a fata morgana (mirage), or the fact that the retina receives an inverted image and only a brain mechanism rights it. Thus, you see, yet you do not truly know what you are seeing. This is the way of the evil.
And why does the verse specify an "evil sefatayim" (a fool of the lips), rather than simply an evil? The Malbim explains: The lips always represent what is external, in contrast to the tongue and palate, which are internal. That is to say, on a day to day basis you see this person observing the commandments and walking in the ways of wisdom, but with his lips he constantly raises questions: "I do it, but what makes it an absolute necessity? Who said so? How can one be certain?" The matter is not yet settled within him, and outwardly, in speech, he is constantly expressing doubts.
Therefore, "he shall fall" (yilavet) - an expression of weariness and toil, as the Children of Israel said, "How we toiled (lavatnu) along the way." The mitzvot weary him because he is not wholehearted with them. He does not take them with joy; he has not yet succeeded in letting the Torah rule over his desires, and so he remains trapped in constant internal warfare: desire pulls in one direction, while the Torah commands and compels him to do the opposite. In contrast, the wise of heart, who has succeeded in enthroning Torah and wisdom over his heart, no longer feels drawn to evil; on such a level, the mitzvot are performed with joy, rather than through coercion and hardship.
הוֹלֵךְ בַּתֹּם יֵלֶךְ בֶּטַח וּמְעַקֵּשׁ דְּרָכָיו יִוָּדֵעַ׃ (ט) - One who walks in integrity walks securely, but he who perverts his ways will be found out.
The Vilna Gaon explains: A person who operates with deceit, wishing to harm his fellow without his noticing, puts on a friendly face outward while tricking and manipulating him behind the scenes. In order for the friend not to realize, he is forced to take a crooked path - "he who perverts his ways [me'akesh derachav]" - a devious route. But one who walks in integrity [tom], who plots no evil against his fellow and harbors no ill intentions toward him, "walks securely [yelech betach]": he walks openly and with confidence, doing nothing in secret or hiding. As scripture already says regarding the Sotah, "and she was concealed and defiled" - if there is concealment, there is defilement; and if there is no defilement, why hide?
A story is told of one of the great leaders of Torah Jewry in Europe before the Holocaust, a prime disciple of the Chafetz Chaim who was killed al kiddush Hashem in those days. He had to look through the newspaper every day to stay informed, since he had to rule on many communal matters. And understand this: he was a person for whom every single minute was accounted for - he even bought laceless shoes, because the few minutes spent tying laces every day add up over time to a significant amount of time. He dedicated two minutes a day to the newspaper: he would bring the newspaper into the beit midrash, place it on the shtender, glance at the headlines for two minutes, close it, set it aside, open the Gemara, and learn.
Once, his students remarked to him: Perhaps it is not fitting to bring a newspaper into the beit midrash and open it on the shtender, and it would be better for the Rav to do so in his private room. He replied to them: On the contrary, this is a lesson I wish to teach you. If it is truly necessary to read a newspaper - bring it into the beit midrash, open it on the shtender, look at what you need, close it, set it aside, and sit down to learn. But if you read in secret, doing behind closed doors in private what you would not do in the beit midrash - it is a sign that it is not truly necessary, and if so, do not read it in secret either. This is a very important lesson for life: if you feel a need to conceal something, ask yourself immediately why you have to hide it. Something here does not smell right. When everything is clean and upright, there is no need for concealment.
This is "He who walks in integrity walks securely" - one who walks with integrity needs no crooked bypass; he walks the straight path and does things out in the open. Whereas "he who perverts his ways," who schemes evil in his heart and twists his paths so the other will not notice - do not think you will succeed, telling yourself, "I pulled one over on him and he didn't even notice" - "he will be found out [yivada]": the Holy One, Blessed be He, will expose your disgrace. You will make some move and he will catch on and discover it, and then woe to the shame and humiliation.
A simple analogy is the green channel and the red channel at customs in the airport. Officers stand there observing travelers - semi-psychologists, trained in body language - deciding whom to stop and ask to open their suitcase. They do not always know for certain, and there are people who can lie so smoothly that even a polygraph wouldn't flinch, but often one can tell: this one looks tense, that one darts glances from side to side, while this other one strolls through relaxed. "He who walks in integrity" - one who walks cleanly, having brought nothing illicit, walks securely and unperturbed; if they stop him, he does not care. But one who knows he has something to hide, whose suitcase is packed with gadgets and undeclared goods, walks with apprehension - and in such a state, "he will be found out"; ultimately the deception will be exposed.
The Malbim continues with his consistent allegory of wisdom versus foolishness. One who walks in the path of wisdom with simple faith is like a person standing at a crossroads who is shown and told: "The straight road is to the right" - and he believes and walks it. He gains two things: first, he does not stumble, for he walks the straight path; and second, he is confident on his journey, walking without fear or anxiety, never second-guessing whether he is doing the right thing.
But one who does not walk in the good path - they show him the straight road, and he says: "Trust me, I know alternative routes, I know shortcuts." This is "he who perverts [me'akesh] his ways" - from the root denoting crookedness, as in teeth that are crooked [akushot]; he twists his paths and takes winding trails. And "yivada," according to the Malbim, connotes suffering and chastisement, as in the verse, "and with them he taught [vayoda] the men of Sukkot" - where Gideon, returning from battle, took thorns of the wilderness and chastised with them the men of Sukkot who had refused to assist him. Thus, "yivada" is an expression of punishment and suffering.
So he tells him: You are sure that you know shortcuts, but know that throughout the entire journey you will travel in fear - this is not the standard road; perhaps it is blocked, perhaps the vehicle will get a flat tire because the road is not properly paved; and aside from the anxieties, there is a very high probability that you will indeed get stuck there. Why search for winding bypasses? Walk the straight path. And the moral of the allegory: the way of wisdom is the paved highway, so do not go looking for shortcuts.
The Malbim offers another explanation for "yivada": he will become known [exposed] to those lying in wait along the crooked path. Who is waiting there? Bandits and wild beasts. Along an unfamiliar route, an ambush of robbers lies waiting to plunder you, and there he will become known to them - they will spot him, identify him, and capture him.
מְקוֹר חַיִּים פִּי צַדִּיק וּפִי רְשָׁעִים יְכַסֶּה חָמָס׃ (יא) - "The mouth of a righteous person is a fountain of life, but the mouth of the wicked conceals violence."
There is a person who has grown accustomed to performing certain deeds through habit, and by virtue of this he has become a tzaddik, but he does not possess an organized, comprehensive Torah understanding of the matter. For example, our Sages said, "An ignoramus (am ha'aretz) cannot be pious (chasid)." An am ha'aretz can be a tzaddik, but by no means a chasid. What is a chasid? One who goes beyond what is strictly required. And one who attempts to go beyond the requirement might, in the process, commit severe transgressions. In order to do more than you are obligated, you must be a talmid chacham, for then you know that if you practice a stringency or enhancement here, you will not cause a loss elsewhere; but if an am ha'aretz tries to enhance a mitzvah, his enhancement may come at the expense of other mitzvos. Do not be pious in a place where you do not know whether it is beneficial or harmful.
It follows that the tzaddik acts out of habit, and in this respect he is considered a tzaddik, but not a chacham (wise person). A chacham is one who knows all wisdoms and proper paths of conduct in every matter, and he can also offer guidance on how to avoid the erroneous path, since he possesses wisdom in every realm; whereas the tzaddik can only do so in matters to which he has grown accustomed.
And how does one escape the pathways of death? Here, advice is given on how to connect to the source of life: through the teaching of the wise (toras chacham) and the fear of Hashem, which rescue one from the snares of death. "Toras chacham" refers to the wise person's systematic approach to the service of Hashem - definitive, clear knowledge in every area - and it is this that saves a person from the snares of death.
"But the mouth of the wicked conceals violence" - with the wicked, not only can one not learn from his conduct, but on the contrary, he performs his deeds in secret. He conceals his evil deeds because he knows that he will eventually be cursed for them, as we saw earlier in the chapter, and because he knows his actions lead to death. But with the righteous person, "the mouth of a righteous person is a fountain of life": whatever you learn from his mouth will guide you along the path of life, toward eternal life and everlasting existence.
שִׂנְאָה תְּעֹרֵר מְדָנִים וְעַל כָּל־פְּשָׁעִים תְּכַסֶּה אַהֲבָה׃ (יב) - "Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all transgressions."
The Vilna Gaon explains: Generally, a person does not pick a fight over a trivial matter. When someone does something minor to him, he does not quarrel immediately; instead, he harbors resentment in his heart and waits for an opportune moment. When that opportune moment arrives - when he has a justifiable pretext to quarrel - he seizes the opportunity and brings up past grievances as well: "And do you remember that two weeks ago you also treated me like that? I didn't say anything to you then, but now I see it is a pattern with you!" Thus, the immediate issue triggers the dispute, and through it, the old quarrels are reawakened as well. This is the meaning of "hatred stirs up strife": a trigger that arouses animosity brings up with it all the previous contentions and quarrels.
In contrast, "love covers all transgressions" - when someone truly loves his fellow, even if the friend wronged him, the love between them covers all offenses; he does not hold a grudge against him in his heart, nor does he wait for a time of conflict to quarrel with him over it.
The Gemara states that one is not punished simply for neglecting a positive commandment (mitzvas aseh). It relates that a person met an angel and asked him: "Do you administer punishment for failing to observe a positive commandment?" The angel replied: "No." For the nature of a positive mitzvah is that if you fulfill it, you receive reward; whereas a negative prohibition (lo sa'aseh) constitutes an active transgression and is far more severe, and for that a person is held accountable.
However, the Gemara adds: When an individual or a community violates a negative prohibition and arouses Divine wrath, this causes them to be judged for the neglected positive commandments as well. This was said regarding the mitzvah of tzitzis, for which a person is not ordinarily prosecuted - if you wear a four-cornered garment, you must attach tzitzis, and if not, you are not obligated - yet "be'idana deris-cha" (at a time of Divine wrath), brought about by the negative transgressions in his record, he is held to account for the neglected positive mitzvos as well, and receives retribution for them.
And this is the meaning of "Hatred stirs up strife": Why is there hatred toward him in Heaven? Because he transgressed negative commandments, which are severe sins. And what effect does this have? It also stirs up "strife" (medanim) - the minor, old quarrel, namely the omission of positive commandments. The Holy One, blessed be He, says: "I had a grievance with you, but I did not punish you and did not demand payment for omitting the positive commandment. But now, since there is hatred and an idana derit'cha (a time of divine wrath), you are judged for neglecting positive commandments as well." By contrast, "and love covers all transgressions": when a person truly loves Hashem and does teshuvah out of love, that repentance covers even intentional sins and the most severe offenses, "Hashem also has put away your sin; you shall not die" - for where there is love, there is annulment, pardon, and forgiveness for all iniquities.
The Malbim distinguishes between a "riv" (quarrel) and a "madon" (strife or legal dispute). A riv is the actual act of two people bickering and arguing with each other, and the cause for which they quarrel is called a merivah. At times a person quarrels over nothing at all, over something foolish, over a matter that should never have been a reason for conflict. But when the dispute revolves around monetary matters, around claims that the other party cheated him and the like - that is called a madon.
"Madon" means a matter subject to legal dispute and deliberation: we have a dispute, and both of us go before a judge or a dayan to rule between us and decide who is right. When it is clear that one party committed a blatant wrong, this is not called madon but rather crime and betrayal, since madon implies legal deliberation. A madon exists when there is room for adjudication: you claim that I stole from you, and I claim that it was rightfully mine - there is a legal dispute between us.
The verse comes to teach: know that the cause of all these disputes is not the actual matter being litigated, but rather the resentment and pettiness harbored between the two parties. For had we loved each other and been close, I would not have taken offense if you encroached slightly into my property or parked once or twice in my parking space - because there is love between us. You may think the dispute is a legitimate legal argument: I am the plaintiff and you are the defendant, there is a law and there is a judge. But the verse tells you: no. "Hatred stirs up strife." Had there been love between us, we would have overlooked it, forgiven, and conceded, never reaching the point of a dispute at all. Hatred is what stirs up disputes; through it people look at each other with a begrudging eye, and out of that, quarrels arise.
What does the verse come to dispel? Do not think that the real reason for the dispute is the monetary claim - the true cause is an issue of character traits, a matter of hatred. This does not refer to substantial, undeniable damage, but to petty conflicts that arise over trifles, which, as the Malbim explained, are sparked by underlying animosity.
"And love covers all transgressions" - when there is love, there is no resentment and no grudging eye. Not only does strife not arise - which is an argument where there is room to debate and a judge is needed to decide - but even when there is an outright, obvious wrong, where you explicitly committed an offense against me, if there is love between us, I overlook it, pardon, and forgive. Thus, hatred drags people into disputes that seem justified, whereas love covers even blatant wrongdoing.
We have learned several fundamental principles from the verses of this chapter: "The wise of heart will take mitzvos" - to choose specifically a mitzvah that offers no personal gain, like Moshe Rabbeinu who occupied himself with Yosef's bones while the rest of Israel were occupied with the spoils of Egypt, knowing that in the end the Holy One, blessed be He, rewards, just as Moshe became wealthy from the sapphire shavings of the Tablets; and according to the Vilna Gaon - to arise and act immediately rather than declaring "tomorrow I will awaken early," so as not to arouse the yetzer hara; and according to the Malbim - to reach a level where wisdom rules the heart, so that mitzvos are embraced with joy rather than out of weariness and compulsion. "One who walks in integrity walks securely" - to act openly in everything, and whoever feels the need to conceal should immediately examine what lies behind that concealment; crooked ways lead to suffering and danger. "The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life" - the Torah of a wise man and the fear of Hashem rescue a person from the snares of death. And finally, "Hatred stirs up strife" - the root of quarreling lies in hatred and grievance, while love covers all, both between man and his fellow and between man and the Omnipresent.