Chapter 14 of Mishlei continues the contrast between the wise person and the fool, focusing on the question of the straight path a person ought to follow. In this lesson, we will address three verses: the definition of a true God-fearing person, the root of the arrogant words that come from the mouth of the fool, and the wonderful parable of the oxen and the manger - a parable from which our Sages derived foundational principles regarding the relationship between the sage, his students, and the public.
הוֹלֵךְ בְּיׇשְׁרוֹ יְרֵא יְהֹוָה וּנְלוֹז דְּרָכָיו בּוֹזֵהוּ׃ - One who walks in his uprightness fears Hashem, but one who is perverse in his ways despises Him.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: The proper and praiseworthy fear is the fear that stems from uprightness - when a person fears Hashem because of the majesty of His grandeur, since it is fundamentally right and proper to fear Him, blessed be He. In contrast, there is a lower level of fear: fear of punishment. This is someone who, when asked why he fears Hashem, answers that he is afraid, because Hashem punishes anyone who strays from the path. If only we could attain even that level of fear! Yet one must know that it is inferior compared to the fear that stems from uprightness. And who is truly worthy of being called God-fearing? One who walks in his uprightness - fulfilling Hashem's mitzvos because doing so is inherently right and proper.
And on the other hand: "but one who is perverse in his ways despises Him." One who fears Hashem honors Him through his reverence, whereas one who despises Hashem is the very antithesis of one who fears Him. A person whose ways are crooked, who strays from Hashem's path and does not fulfill the mitzvos, will never reach a state of fear, for he has no interest whatsoever in fulfilling the mitzvos, and there is no fear in his heart to motivate him to do so. Consequently, he also "despises Him" - despising Hashem's Name through his actions.
The Vilna Gaon explains that every person must follow the path that is appropriate for him, for people's character traits are not identical. When someone faces a particular trial and knows that he struggles in that area, he must make a strong safeguard for himself there. It may very well be that his friend has no need for this safeguard at all, because he does not struggle with that issue, whereas his friend needs to erect boundaries in a completely different area where you have no need to do so, because he faces a trial in a matter where you face none.
A contemporary example: the issue of women wearing a shawl (shal). There are those who support it and those who oppose it. Gedolei Yisrael certainly praise it, and Rav Ovadia Yosef stated several times that a woman who wears a shawl - which is called a redid in the language of the Gemara - fortunate is she and fortunate is her portion, and this is a great virtue. The virtue of the shawl is that it conceals the contours of the body, which is far superior to clothing that reveals body contours. Yet there are those who oppose it, claiming that it draws attention, along with all sorts of empty arguments.
Now, if a woman knows that she has a strong yetzer hara regarding dressing conspicuously and drawing attention, and therefore she sets a boundary for herself and wears a shawl - what does she bring upon herself? Ridicule. "She became a tzadekes," "She joined the Taliban," and similar harsh expressions, venomous arrows intended to dissuade her from the resolution she undertook, even though in her situation she genuinely needs it, since this specific practice sustains her yiras Shamayim. Concerning such a person, who acts with self-sacrifice because she knows she struggles with this particular challenge, the verse states: "One who walks in his uprightness." "His uprightness" - his personal uprightness. You might not need this, and at your level there is no need for it, but she does need it. People do not know what she needs or why she does what she does, yet she perseveres in her path - this is a God-fearing person. She knows that this is the fence she must construct for herself, and that if she does not, she will stumble into sin, so she does not calculate what others might say. But "one who is perverse in his ways" - one who bends his path for the sake of human approval, seeking honor in the eyes of others - "despises Him," scorning the Holy One, blessed be He, in order to be honored in the eyes of people.
The Vilna Gaon further explains: One who walks on the straight path will come to fear Hashem, while one who crooks his ways will come to despise Hashem; it all depends on character traits. This is a straightforward, true, and authentic explanation. A person who walks on the straight path - meaning he does not look for schemes, tricks, or shortcuts - will attain fear of Hashem. But one who is constantly seeking shortcuts and schemes, trying to manipulate this, get out of that, and bypass obligations, will ultimately reach the state of "despises Him," showing contempt for Hashem's mitzvos. For there too he will devise all sorts of schemes: why he is exempt today, or how with this specific mitzvah there is no real obligation right now to fulfill it. In short, he will end up cutting corners and scheming around Hashem's mitzvos as well, thereby despising them.
The Malbim has already explained that a yashar (upright person) is one whose intellect naturally moves straight. By nature, his mind is straight; he has what we call today healthy logic. He does not need to be a great sage or a great tzaddik, but he has straight thinking, common sense. And this is how the Malbim defines uprightness: "The definition of yashar is the shortest line between two given points" - exactly what we call a straight line today, the shortest distance between two points. The yashar is one whose mind travels the shortest, most direct path.
To elaborate further, this relates to the realm of binah (understanding). Through understanding, a person deduces one thing from another; yet it is possible to deduce one thing from another while twisting one's intellect, arriving at illogical and false conclusions. But one who walks in uprightness will always understand correctly, will always arrive at the right conclusions, and will always see the truth. This is what is meant by the verse: "God made man upright, but they sought out many calculations" (Kohelet 7:29).
At first glance, a person might argue: We have an evil inclination within us, and it blinds our eyes to the point of presenting sins as mitzvot! Master of the Universe, how can I protect myself against such a thing? I only want to fulfill mitzvot, yet I went and acted because the yetzer hara told me it was a mitzvah! If the yetzer simply tells me, "Come commit a sin, it is worth it, it tastes good" - against that, I can defend myself and refrain from sinning. But if it portrays a sin as a mitzvah, how am I to know?
To this, the answer is: "God made man upright." The Holy One, blessed be He, says: If you reflect, you will be able to recognize that this is the yetzer hara trying to mislead you. How? Because by nature, you possess uprightness, justice, and the ability to perceive truth. Where, then, does every error stem from? From the fact that you want to be misled. Had you not wanted to be misled, but genuinely resolved that you wish to see the truth, you would have arrived at the unvarnished truth without any doubt or hesitation.
For example, anyone who observes nature will certainly arrive at the conclusion that there is a Creator of the universe and that there is reward and punishment. It is inconceivable that this astonishing world came into existence on its own - to this day, scientists have not finished investigating the human body and the sublime, divine wisdom within it, nor have they finished exploring nature, constantly discovering more. One need only contemplate the complexity of DNA: each person has unique DNA, and this imprint is present in his flesh, skin, eye, fingernail, drop of blood, saliva, and semen - at every point in the body, the exact same seal. What immense complexity! Anyone who contemplates this understands that it did not create itself, and an explosion cannot produce something so sophisticated; that is a conclusion accessible to all.
If so, why was I placed here? What is asked of me? Anyone who investigates will undoubtedly arrive - just as Avraham Avinu did at the age of three - at the reality of God. He will understand that the Holy One, blessed be He, did not create a world for nothing; this is no game, but rather something is expected of me. And if work is demanded of me here - just as one person pays another even for a small amount of work, it is inconceivable that Hashem, blessed be He, will not reward me for great labor. From here one must conclude: man has a purpose in this world, there is reward and punishment, and serving God is never, Heaven forbid, "in vain" (Malachi 3:14). Anyone who simply contemplates with straight thinking will reach these conclusions.
However, one who deviates from the straight path, who does not follow the straight line leading from point to point, but instead searches for crooked and winding roads, is "perverse in his ways" (naloz derachav). Naloz means crooked; he twists his intellect through all kinds of philosophical inquiries and fallacies, and through this he comes to despise and deny Hashem, blessed be He. He will say: "Who says Hashem exercises divine providence?" And what does he rely on? On philosophy - claiming that Hashem, blessed be He, is so exalted that He could not possibly pay attention to lowly beings. This was a prevalent philosophical claim in their time: that there is a Creator of the universe, but after creating it He no longer involves Himself with us. We have already refuted this claim at length in the past, and we will not delve into it now, as this notion is no longer widely accepted today. In any case, we see that whoever seeks crooked paths will end up there; one can contort one's mind and remain crooked: "and he who is perverse in his ways despises Him."
בְּפִי־אֱוִיל חֹטֶר גַּאֲוָה וְשִׂפְתֵי חֲכָמִים תִּשְׁמוּרֵם׃ - In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride, but the lips of the wise will preserve them.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: The root of pride lies in the heart of the fool, and this root sprouts branches, and the branch is in the mouth - as in the verse, "A shoot [choter] will come forth from the trunk of Yishai" (Yeshayahu 11:1) - and the branch produces fruit, which is speech. That is, when a person speaks boastful and arrogant words, saying "I did this and I achieved that" - where does this come from? From the branch in the mouth, whose root is embedded in the heart. Because in his heart he is convinced that "I am, and there is none beside me" (Yeshayahu 47:8), believing he is superior to everyone, you naturally hear in his speech how he boasts and feels entitled to everything.
According to the Vilna Gaon, it becomes clear why he is called an evil (fool): an evil is a person who does not reflect. How does he live? On impulse. He always shoots from the hip; he arrives and reacts instantly. Tell him: "Wait a moment, think, perhaps this is not advisable, you will regret it later" - yet he reacts on impulse. Whatever first enters his mind is what he does, never stopping to consider whether it is worthwhile, whether it pays, or whether there is another way. The wise person, as we have already discussed, weighs every action, analyzes it deeply, reflects upon it, and only then acts. But the evil - related to avla, the very first thing that occurs to him - immediately acts upon it.
According to this: "In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride" - a choter is a rod or a stick. The fool's opening argument begins with a stick. He reassures himself in his heart that whoever violates his word will be struck with a stick. Woe to anyone who tells him "no"; woe to anyone who dares protest. In this way, he forces his opinion upon others. And how does the wise person save himself from such a fool? "And the lips of the wise shall preserve them" - the wise keep their mouths shut. Someone who is not wise comes along to argue with the fool, imagining that a fool can be persuaded, and ends up taking a blow to the head, because this fool possesses brute force. But the wise man knows: do not try to outsmart him and do not answer him, for if you answer the fool you will end up just like him; moreover, he is stronger than you and will strike you. "Do not answer a fool" - and by refraining from answering him, he is protected from him.
The Malbim, in his characteristic approach, explains that the word evil (fool) stems from ulay ("perhaps") - he is one who harbors perpetual doubt regarding the laws of wisdom. He will always tell you: there is no proof, there is no evidence, this cannot be demonstrated logically. A person who is free of arrogance does not presume that he can grasp everything through his intellect; he knows that certain matters transcend human comprehension and that there are things we simply do not understand, and consequently he submits himself to the laws of wisdom. When he is asked, "Since you do not fully understand this, explain the logic to me," he responds: "I do not know the underlying logic, but this is the tradition we received, this is what the Sages of Israel handed down, this is what is written in the Mishnah." He humbles himself and bends his intellect to the supreme wisdom, and that is the truly humble person.
The fool, however, carries a rod of pride in his mouth. He feels that he understands everything: "What do you know? What you are saying makes no sense!" In reality, it is not that it "makes no sense," but rather that it does not fit your limited logic; you fail to grasp it rationally, yet it exists within Divine logic. But to him, if he does not understand something, it simply cannot be. The fool imagines that whatever he grasps and knows is the sum total of reality, and whatever he does not understand or know does not exist. Where does this folly of doubting everything originate? Because in his mouth is a rod of pride, and driven by arrogance, he is convinced that whatever makes sense to him is true, and whatever does not is false. Why is it called a "rod of pride" (choter ga'avah)? The Malbim explains that pride protrudes from his mouth like an outgrowth (chatoteret) protruding from a tree trunk.
By contrast, "the lips of the wise" - lips always denote outward speech, alluding to da'at (applied, integrated knowledge). Here we recall the distinction explained previously: there is chochmah, there is binah, and there is da'at. Chochmah is Divine wisdom that must be accepted as it is, and it cannot be known except from the Almighty Himself. Binah is deductive understanding, comprehending one concept from another. Da'at is when, after delving deeply into wisdom, one also comes to understand it from within and recognize its rightness; what was initially incomprehensible and accepted purely on faith from Him, blessed be He, becomes internalized through profound study into da'at - a genuine, personal grasp of the matter rather than mere second-hand transmission.
Therefore, lips allude to da'at: because the wise believe in the laws of wisdom and delve deeply into them, the matter becomes for them an aspect of da'at, an aspect of lips - complete, articulate knowledge - and this preserves them from pride. For "Hashem gives wisdom": if one subordinates oneself to Hashem, blessed be He, one becomes worthy of receiving wisdom. But if not, if a person thinks he understands everything, he will always raise objections, contradictions, and challenges. That is the very definition of an evil, which stems entirely from arrogance, since he presumes that whatever he grasps exists, and whatever he cannot comprehend is nonexistent. This is the protruding outgrowth of pride in the mouth of the fool.
בְּאֵין אֲלָפִים אֵבוּס בָּר וְרׇב־תְּבוּאוֹת בְּכֹחַ שׁוֹר׃ - Where there are no oxen, the crib is clean, but abundant harvest comes through the strength of the ox.
Rashi explains: "Where there are no oxen" - when there is no livestock, "the crib is clean" - there is no straw in the stall; and bar means clean, as in barim (pure and clean). In other words, in a place where there are no Torah scholars, there is no guidance and no halachah. But "abundant harvest comes through the strength of the ox" - when Torah scholars are present, there is an abundant spiritual harvest: there is halachah, there are clarified and decided laws, for the Sages are the ones who determine judgment and halachic practice.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: when there are no oxen and no sheep, the feeding trough remains clean. If someone owns a barn filled with livestock, anyone who enters finds an overwhelming stench and filth; the place is dirty and unkempt. Would anyone refrain from keeping cows in the barn or oxen in the pen on that account? Certainly not. Why? Because he reasons: even though this involves filth, grime, and foul odors, they yield great benefit - "abundant harvest comes through the strength of the ox." Where does my livelihood come from? Where does the grain come from? Through the strength of the ox. To be sure, everything comes from the Almighty, but through the physical framework of cause and effect, it comes through the strength of the ox.
The deeper lesson is clear: Scripture did not intend merely to encourage us to raise cattle. Rather, the same principle applies to Torah scholars. Scholars can often be inclined to speak down to ordinary people with pride and condescension, particularly in earlier eras when the masses were uneducated, veritable amei ha'aretz who could neither read nor write - rough and unrefined individuals. Rabbeinu Yonah teaches: that is no reason for you, the scholar and Torah leader, to treat them with contempt or haughtiness. And even if an ordinary person speaks to you inappropriately, without the reverence due a great Torah scholar, do not become enraged at him and do not scold him harshly.
Why? First, it gives you the advantage that the people will listen to you. When you do not distance yourself from them and do not maintain an aloof distance, then when you rebuke them they will accept it from you, for they feel connected to you. Second, this brings glory to your Torah, for "In the multitude of people is the king's glory." No matter how great a sage a person might be, when a large audience comes to hear his Torah, follows him, and hangs on his every word, that is the honor of the Torah - that the public as a whole follows the sages.
Third, these people, who may seem coarse and common to you, are the very ones who will assist you in your Torah study. How can an unlearned person help me? He will help bear the burden of the material affairs you need taken care of, lending a hand so that your time is freed up for learning Torah. And this is what Chazal said: "Let the clusters of grapes pray for mercy for the leaves, for if not for the leaves, the clusters could not endure." The clusters are the Torah scholars - "a man in whom everything is found" - and the leaves are those who shelter and protect them. This is what Shlomo comes to teach us here: just as a person is willing to tolerate the bother and foul odor of animals because of the benefit they yield, so too one must know how to tolerate the burden of dealing with people, for it brings great benefit: bringing them close, receiving their help for one's Torah study, and increasing the glory and honor of the Torah when a large public listens to his teaching. If you understand that it is worthwhile to endure the bother of oxen for the sake of their utility, how much more so is it worthwhile to bear the burden of people.
The Vilna Gaon first explains the plain meaning: when a person has no alafim - oxen and draft animals to plow and cultivate the earth - the feeding trough is clean, devoid of produce. Where will your grain come from? "Abundant crops come by the strength of the ox" - grain is plentiful for one who has the strength of an ox to work his field; but when there are no oxen to work the land, there will be no grain in the trough.
And what does this come to teach us? Alafim is related to the language of teaching and learning, as in "I will teach you (a'alpecha) understanding" and "I will teach you wisdom." "Where there are no alafim" - when you have no one to teach Torah to, even if you are a great talmid chacham, if you have no students to learn with, the feeding trough likewise becomes clean and emptied of everything. The trough is where the animal feeds, the place of the grain: if there are no oxen, there is also no grain to put in the trough, for it is the ox that plows and brings the produce, which then provides what to feed it. The lesson is clear: if you, the sage, say, "I have no need for this; I have my own wisdom, I do not need students" - you are mistaken. For where there are no disciples to come and learn Torah from you, you too will remain barren and empty. Why? "And from my students more than from all of them" - students sharpen your mind, develop the traditions you taught, and bring you to a deeper and clearer understanding of your own words.
"Abundant crops come by the strength of the ox" - and why specifically an ox? The Vilna Gaon explains that an ox hints at a worthy disciple. To understand this, let us examine how Chazal defined the pursuit of Torah through the imagery of working animals: "A person should always make himself like a donkey for a burden and like an ox for a yoke." Why specifically these two examples? The Vilna Gaon presents three explanations for this.
The first explanation: a sage needs assistance both bodily and financially. Bodily - that people help him in all physical matters and daily practical affairs. Financially - that they provide for his material needs. This is "like a donkey and like an ox": the donkey carries burdens, serving the talmid chacham with physical effort; while the ox bears the yoke of labor in the field, providing the sage with his sustenance and financial support.
The second explanation: "Like a donkey for a burden" - bearing the weight of the mitzvot, which is the burden. "And like an ox for a yoke" - bearing upon oneself the yoke of Torah. A person should always be like a donkey for a burden in carrying the yoke of mitzvot, and like an ox for a yoke to bear the yoke of Torah.
The third explanation: in Torah there is peshat (the plain meaning) and there is pilpul (analytic debate). Peshat means understanding the basic meaning of the texts clearly; pilpul means clarifying the concepts through rigorous questions and answers. One who learns the plain meaning is in the category of a donkey - not in a derogatory sense, but in the sense that he carries the breadth of Torah upon himself; while one who learns through pilpul is termed an ox. Why? Because the distinguishing trait of the ox is horns to gore with. And so the Gemara says that one who sees an ox in a dream and the ox gores him, it is a sign that he will have sons who gore in Torah debate. Goring characterizes the study of Torah through pilpul: raising sharp difficulties - "He raised an objection," "How can you say such a thing?" The ox, too, charges forward to gore.
Thus, a person must be both like a donkey and like an ox. First like a donkey, which is the most essential: constantly reviewing one's learning, acquiring broad knowledge of the Torah - this is "Yissachar is a strong-boned donkey," who carries the weight of Torah upon his shoulders and reviews it continually so that he knows it. Second, one must also engage in pilpul, analyzing the study so that the matter emerges clarified and purified without difficulties. Through pilpul - the aggressive questioning, the refutation from here and the challenge from there - one reaches clear and definitive conclusions, with the matter as clear as a garment. This is "like an ox for a yoke," to analyze and clarify the teachings deeply.
Based on this, the Vilna Gaon explains our verse: How does the wise person attain "abundant produce," having a great yield in Torah? "Through the strength of an ox" - if you have disciples who are like an ox, who debate with you in pilpul, challenge you with difficulties, and sharpen your thinking. But if you have two hundred "yes-men" disciples, who say to whatever you utter, "yes," "correct," "holy" - thank you very much, but there is no increase of Torah in that.
And we have already found this with Rabbi Yochanan. After Reish Lakish passed away, Rabbi Yochanan sank into deep sorrow and would wander around crying, "Where are you, son of Lakish?" and there was concern that he might lose his mind. They brought him another disciple to study with him, and for every statement Rabbi Yochanan made, that student would bring twenty-four supporting proofs: here is a proof from a baraita, and this is implied by the Mishnah, and this other statement proves your view as well. Rabbi Yochanan said to him: What benefit have you brought me? Where is the son of Lakish, who for every statement I made would bring twenty-four difficulties! He would challenge me: How can you say such a thing, when over there it states the opposite? Then we were forced to make a distinction that there it refers to this case and here to that case, yielding a novel insight - that this entire ruling applies only in this specific manner, but in another manner it is different. And furthermore, in that other statement it says otherwise, which means that even in that case one is not always liable, but only in such-and-such circumstances. In this way the Torah expands, and the halachic analysis broadens. But someone who brings for everything "it is taught in a baraita to support you" - that that authority also agrees with me - thank you very much for telling me that he agrees with me!
Regarding this, a talmid chacham once remarked: What is the difference between a rosh yeshivah and a dayan? Both state a halachic principle. The rosh yeshivah delivers a shiur and innovates a profound approach, a wonderful explanation of the sugya; and the dayan is asked a halachic question, analyzes the sugya, and derives a wonderful and novel ruling. The difference between them emerges when a supporting proof is brought. If someone says to the rosh yeshivah: "Rebbe, this entire pilpul and novel insight you presented - we found that it is already written in such-and-such a sefer" - he will not be pleased: "I thought I originated a novel approach, and suddenly it turns out it was already written." But the dayan will say: "Thank God, I am glad I did not rule arbitrarily; after all, Rabbi Akiva Eiger already noted this distinction, and therefore I judged a true judgment and did not distort the law." What seemed to me a simple distinction, even though unwritten, now turns out to have been said by Rabbi Akiva Eiger - and he rejoices over this. The rosh yeshivah, by contrast, feels: "Well, what did you innovate? Rabbi Akiva Eiger already says it." In any event, pilpul and difficulties multiply Torah, whereas bringing supporting proofs does not increase Torah. This is the meaning of "abundant produce is through the strength of an ox" - not a donkey, but a disciple who is like an ox, who gores with sharp analysis, and consequently the Torah study expands.
The Vilna Gaon further explains that the difference between alafim and an ox is that alafim refers to small livestock - sheep and goats - which eat and do no work, whereas oxen perform labor, working and plowing. We may note at the outset that the Malbim takes the exact opposite approach, and the Malbim and the Vilna Gaon diverge in their interpretation of this word.
According to his approach: "Where there are no alafim" - when you have no sheep and goats that merely eat without doing work - "the trough is full of grain (bar)." Note that this interpretation is opposite to what was explained earlier, that bar means empty and clean; here, on the contrary, the feeding trough remains full of grain and straw, with no animals to consume it. "And abundant produce is through the strength of an ox" - the ox is designated for labor, and although it must eat and rest, and one might think it consumes all the grain in the house, that is not so. For it is the ox that brings produce into your home, and through it the yield increases more and more, as it returns to work the land and produce grain.
The same applies to students: When a teacher has no students who are idle from their studies, like sheep who simply idle away - "the trough is clarified (bar)," meaning the halachah is clarified and free of dross, clear and understandable. An idle student certainly causes people to study without enthusiasm and fail to arrive at the truth, which is detrimental; idle students merely consume the grain. But if you want more - "abundant produce" - it is not enough merely to be free of idle students; you must also have students who "gore" in Torah, sharp analytic thinkers with metaphorical horns, through whom the Torah's yield increases.
The Malbim, as mentioned, takes the opposite approach of the Vilna Gaon: Alafim does not mean sheep and goats that do not work, but rather cattle, oxen trained to plow. They are called alafim from the language of iluf (training), for they are trained to work the land. When you have an ox trained to plow, you do not need to keep it at the trough to fatten it up; rather, it grazes in green pastures. When you lead it out to the field, it eats there from the grass and the crops. It turns out that the ox yields produce for you through its strength - "and abundant produce is through the strength of an ox."
However, "where there are no alafim" - if you have not trained the ox to work the soil - where does it stay? At the trough. There are no shortcuts; you have to feed it. Had you taken it outside, it would graze outdoors, but you have no need to take it out since it does not plow for you. You have no choice, then, but to feed it at the trough. Consequently, not only does it generate no income from plowing, but it also creates expenses, as you must feed and sustain it. "Where there are no alafim" - you must constantly fill the trough with grain to feed it. Whereas if you possessed "the strength of an ox" going out to its labor, you would achieve "abundant produce" that fills your granaries with grain, without needing to keep it housed at home and place grain in its trough.
And this is an allegory and a metaphor, says the Malbim: A person must be like an ox to the yoke and a donkey to the burden; he must be aluf - trained and accustomed - to plow where? In the plot of wisdom, in the fields of understanding and knowledge. Through this, he will bring forth abundant produce: the produce of the soul, which is the fruit of the intellect. For as is well known, when a person exercises his brain and his thought, the mind develops and grows sharper; but when he does not exercise it, it atrophies, and the intellect rusts.
And this is an interesting finding: Alzheimer's disease is found far less among people who attend Torah classes, while dementia is far more common among idle individuals. In particular, when a person retires and becomes idle, failing to engage his brain in anything, the brain cells begin to degenerate. But with the great Torah sages, you see that they remain lucid until their final moment, because they constantly exercise their minds: Rav Kaduri at the age of one hundred and six; and Rav Elyashiv, who would be asked questions in the most intricate areas of Halachah - profound issues in which ordinary people cannot find their footing - and at one hundred and two years old, his mind functioned with sharp analytical precision. How so? Because he did not waste a single moment from Torah study, and his mind was in constant activity.
And conversely: a person who is neither a champion (aluf) nor learned, a fool (evil) who disputes the laws of wisdom, who does not study the teachings of wisdom and does not delve deeply into the holy Torah - he does not cultivate his land; he does not develop the field for which he descended into this world, namely, the engagement in Torah. And what is the result? The feeding trough remains empty - you have not acquired any true wisdom; rather, you exploit your intellect to fatten yourself on vanity. Instead of studying Divine wisdom, you study philosophical wisdom, physical and material wisdom. You might become a nuclear scientist or anything else - and what have you accomplished? You set out to investigate physical matter, to investigate materiality. We are not speaking of a non-Jew, for whom this is all there is; we are speaking of a Jew, who could have invested this vigor and capability into the study of Torah and the investigation of the Divine, and then you would truly have seen that "an abundance of grain comes by the strength of an ox."
However, if there are no oxen - then "the manger is empty"; you stand by the trough merely to grow fat and indulge in the matters of this world and physical pursuits, devising all sorts of methods to derive more pleasure from this world. And there are many people whose entire ambition is just that, and this is what they do all the time: how to enjoy this world more, how to devise advancements and inventions to make life easier. Is this truly the purpose of life - to make life easier? The ultimate purpose is engagement in Torah, so that a person may develop spiritually.
As noted earlier: today one does not even need to push a button; there is "touch." After all, pressing might cause friction on the outer tissue of the fingers, and that is considered so perilous - who knows what might happen to one's hands from so much pressing! Therefore, one merely touches lightly, and the device functions. Soon enough, they will invent a device that does not even need to be touched, lest even that cause undesirable effects to the skin, so that by mere thought one will transmit to the device and it will operate. Soon you will see - they are working on it; it is in development. This is the life direction into which people pour their strength - instead of investing that very same energy into plowing the fields of understanding and knowledge.
We have learned three core principles: "He who walks in his uprightness fears Hashem" - true fear of Hashem stems from integrity, from the majesty of His glory and not merely from fear of punishment. Every person must walk in his own integrity, erecting fences around his own areas of personal trial even if people scoff; and one who distorts his ways, seeking schemes and convoluted investigations, will ultimately despise Hashem. "In the mouth of the fool is a shoot of pride" - the root of pride is in the heart, its branch is in the mouth, and its fruit is in speech. The fool believes that whatever he cannot comprehend does not exist; whereas the wise man, who humbles his intellect before Supreme Wisdom, attains true knowledge, and his lips preserve him - even protecting him from arguing with the fool. And "where there are no oxen, the manger is clean" - to bear the burden of people just as one bears the burden of animals for the sake of the benefit; to recognize that the sage needs disciples in order to proliferate in Torah; and to be oneself like a donkey for bearing burdens and like an ox for the yoke: reviewing Torah with diligence, debating and sparring in its depth, plowing the plot of wisdom, and yielding an abundance of grain - the produce of the soul, which is the fruit of the intellect.