In this section of Chapter 14, we examine three verses linked by a single thread: the power of the inner heart. The heart is the advocate, the mediator, and the compass informing a person whether his actions are upright or not; it knows the soul's bitterness and true joy; and from this emerges the fundamental difference between the permanent, material "house of the wicked" and the temporary "tent of the upright" that is destined to blossom.
אֱוִלִים יָלִיץ אָשָׁם וּבֵין יְשָׁרִים רָצוֹן׃ (ט) - Fools justify their guilt, but among the upright there is goodwill. (9)
The Vilna Gaon explains this based on what we have already discussed: the fool (evil) is one who speaks without composure and forethought. Whatever comes to his tongue, he blurts out immediately, even matters concerning his fellow or compromises to his own honor. Afterward, he realizes: "Oh no, I said something foolish; he was hurt; why did I even bring that up?" Then he regrets it and begins offering justifications, rationales, explanations, and apologies. Yalitz is related to advocacy and justification - he is forced to advocate and justify the asham, the offense and mistake he committed. All of this stems from foolishness, because he does not think before he speaks.
Not only that, says the Vilna Gaon, but this is always their way: first they commit an offense, and afterward they advocate in defense of their guilt. "This is their way, their folly." The fool blurts out something thoughtlessly and is then forced to explain: "My words were taken out of context, that is not what I meant, I actually only meant to praise him, and there are people trying to cause strife between us." Everything is in hindsight; everything is damage control after the fact.
In contrast, "among the upright there is goodwill." When an upright person wants to say something, he does not blurt it out immediately. He pauses and considers: Is there constructive purpose in this? Perhaps now is not the right time? Might it be better to postpone these words? Would it be better not to mention the matter at all? Might someone be hurt by it? And because he examines the matter beforehand, he generates goodwill with his fellow. He does not arrive at hatred, anger, and resentment, because he does not say unnecessary things, and he does not hurt others heedlessly only to apologize afterward.
The Malbim explains that the verse should be read as though yalitz also applies to the upright, and bein ("between/among"), stated regarding the upright, also applies to the fools - meaning: between fools it mediates guilt, and between the upright it mediates goodwill. And what is a melitz? A person who stands between two people to convey to one what the other is saying, as in "They did not know that Yosef understood, for an interpreter (hamelitz) was between them" - an intermediary who communicates between them because one does not understand the other's language.
Fools (evilim), as we explained, are those who doubt the laws of wisdom, deny them, and oppose them - unlike the foolish simpletons (kesilim), who agree with wisdom in principle but are swept away by physical desires. The upright are the opposite of the evilim: their heart is straight in the ways of understanding, and they grasp the truth and the paths of wisdom. The Malbim asserts that it is through the heart that a person's inner thoughts and hidden secrets are revealed.
Thus he explains: asham denotes a person who realizes that he is liable to punishment for his actions, that guilt clings to him and he knows he is in the wrong. The heart senses whether one's actions are good or not, and the heart of the fool senses that he deserves punishment; his inner soul eats away at him over his conduct. A wise man once said: what will kill you is not what you eat, but what is eating you. This is "between fools it mediates guilt" - deep down, the fool knows he is guilty, knows he is in the wrong, and knows his way is mistaken.
By contrast, "between the upright it mediates goodwill": the heart of the upright is joyful. Deep inside, a person feels that he has done the right thing - I attended the shiur, I prayed, I wore tefillin, I performed an act of chesed. And who tells him he did the right thing? The feeling in his heart. It fills him with satisfaction and joy; he fulfilled a mitzvah and feels complete and happy. Who, then, is the mediator between a person and his actions? The heart. Reality speaks a language that man does not always consciously comprehend, and the heart is the interpreter that reveals the hidden truth: if the heart feels fulfillment and wholeness, the act was right; if there are pangs of conscience and heartache afterward, the act was wrong.
A wonderful example of this is found with David HaMelech, and there too the Malbim states this principle. After David cut the corner of Shaul's robe, it is said: "And David's heart struck him." The tzaddik knows whether his action was right or not based on his conscience; he has a compass, and its name is the heart. When his heart strikes him, he knows he did something wrong; and when his heart encourages and strengthens him, giving him inner satisfaction and a sense of joy, he knows he did the proper deed. The goodwill and joy that follow the deed prove that it was upright and proper.
לֵב יוֹדֵעַ מָרַּת נַפְשׁוֹ וּבְשִׂמְחָתוֹ לֹא יִתְעָרַב זָר׃ (י) - "The heart knows the bitterness of its soul, and no stranger shall share in its joy." (10)
Let us begin here with the Malbim, for this verse is a direct continuation of his explanation of the previous verse. The Malbim explains that this feeling - that of the fool feeling guilty, and that of the upright knowing his deeds are favored - is an internal feeling rather than an external one. "The heart knows the bitterness of its soul": the inner soul is bitter, has no rest, and knows that it is guilty. And similarly, regarding the joy of heart experienced by the upright, "no stranger shall share" - it cannot be sensed from the outside, but internally, a person feels it deeply.
This is what is meant by "God made man upright": as long as you have not completely warped yourself, the heart remains a compass pointing you in the right direction. If you do something improper, inside you will feel that it is not right; and if you do a good deed, inside you will know it is worthy. Indeed, a person can deceive himself to such an extent that he darkens this inner light until nothing speaks within him; but as long as he remains somewhat honest and has not completely distorted his heart, the heart serves as a compass.
This can often be seen: in a time of distress, a person suddenly resolves to do teshuvah. Did he not believe and observe until today? The truth is that the heart always knew the truth; the denial was merely the foolishness of "I wanted to do whatever I felt like," but in the moment of truth, a person knows the truth.
Someone once related that he worked in elevator repair with a Russian man who claimed there was no God and that it was all nonsense. He said to him: "Say 'b'ezrat Hashem.'" The man refused. He said to him: "May it be God's will that you die today - say Amen." The man was shocked: "How can you speak like that?!" He replied: "Why do you care? After all, there is no God, so say Amen!" But he repeated: "How can you let such words come out of your mouth!" A moment earlier there was supposedly nothing at all, so what happened now? Deep inside, a person knows.
Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian recounted a story about a man who was an ardent heretic, even publishing one of the anti-religious newspapers of his day. He had to undergo surgery that carried grave doubts as to whether he would survive, and a moment before the anesthesia he said: "Into Your hand I commit my spirit; You have redeemed me, Hashem, God of truth," and only then asked them to proceed. Those around him were stunned; this was a slap in the face to everything he had written and preached his entire life. What happened here? In the moment of truth, what had been inside all along was revealed: "The heart knows the bitterness of its soul."
A young man related that at one point during his yeshivah years, he considered leaving and went to seek advice from someone who had taken that very path - Yisrael Segal, who had formerly been a yeshivah student and a disciple of Rav Chatzkel Levenstein, and whose brother is Rav Dan Segal, a great talmid chacham. Yisrael Segal told him: "Listen to me, stay where you are, stay in yeshivah." The young man was astonished: "You fight against sacred things, and suddenly you are telling me to stay?!" He replied: "Know this: anyone who has ever learned in a yeshivah will never truly enjoy anything in life afterward. Nothing will satisfy you, because with every act, you will know how grave it is; they have drilled into your head how terrible it is."
And why will he truly not enjoy it? What a person says in the media is one thing, and what he carries inside is another. Someone who learned with and saw Rav Chatzkel Levenstein saw what an elevated person is, what a man of truth is. In the media he never saw anyone who could reach his fingernail; he never saw such faith, he never saw such fear of Heaven, he never saw someone who speaks a word and "you will decree something, and it will be fulfilled for you." He knows where truth and light are, but worldly desires overpower him. Therefore, his heart will always strike him and say: True, you are enjoying yourself, but for all of this you will pay a very steep price. Is this a reason for him to stop? No, he may continue in his sins, but do not think he does not know: "The heart knows the bitterness of its soul."
Rashi explains: "The heart knows the bitterness of its soul" - the heart knows how much one toiled, labored, and exerted oneself in Torah. Therefore, "and no stranger shall share in its joy": when the time of joy arrives, when he receives his reward in the World to Come, no stranger will share in it, for no one else knows how hard he tried, how much he labored, and how much self-sacrifice he showed. The joy will belong to him alone, because he alone knows how much he invested.
The Vilna Gaon explains this based on what is written: in the Future to Come, all the limbs will come to the heart and say to it, "Are we not all the sons of one man? Why is your joy greater than ours?" In the Future to Come, the heart will rejoice most intensely, and the limbs do not understand why its joy specifically is so immense. The heart answers them, "In man's time of distress, who suffered the most? Who truly felt the pain? Was there anyone who grieved with him as I did? If so, it is fitting that in joy as well, I should rejoice more than all the limbs." And this is "The heart knows its own bitterness" - at the time of sorrow, it was the one that felt it, and therefore "in its joy no stranger can share."
We all recognize this human tendency: something a person worked hard for, he does not sell cheaply. There is one who, after learning something, opens a business whose entire purpose is to teach others how to open businesses - after all, he went through so much hardship, and now he is making money off that too. By this logic, a person might say, "I toiled so hard in Torah, I labored, how many mistakes did I make before reaching the correct understanding - and now I should hand everything over on a silver platter to someone who did not toil or make an effort? Should I sit with him for an hour and explain the plain meaning that I labored over for two weeks, the central thread running through the sugya, and the explanation that illuminates it? Let him make an effort too!"
To this, the verse says: Know that what you toiled, exerted yourself, and labored over - for that you receive a reward in its own right, "a good reward for his labor," and in this joy no stranger can share, as it says, "Let them be yours alone." Do not think that if you transmit this Torah to someone else, he will have what you have. It is not comparable at all: what you possess came through labor, effort, and toil, and how great a reward you will receive for it; whereas what he has, he received on a silver platter, and he will not receive the reward you receive. Therefore, "The heart knows its own bitterness" - let a person know how much he toiled and labored in Torah, yet nevertheless not refrain from passing it on to others, for in his joy no stranger can share. If so, have a generous eye to share your Torah with others.
בֵּית רְשָׁעִים יִשָּׁמֵד וְאֹהֶל יְשָׁרִים יַפְרִיחַ׃ (יא) - "The house of the wicked will be destroyed, but the tent of the upright will flourish." (11)
Rabbeinu Yonah explains that the verse compares the tent of the upright to a flower: just as crops do not grow and develop when surrounded by harmful weeds, so too the upright are not glorious and splendid when in the company of the wicked and the misguided. Why? Because the upright person wants to increase righteousness and justice, while the misguided want to increase error, and the fools want to increase foolishness - and these do not go together. The wicked will also always strive to nullify the words of the upright. Like a flower that cannot grow among thorns, which choke it and stifle its growth, so too the upright and righteous person cannot abide together with the wicked.
And this is what David said: "The wicked walk on every side." When the wicked see the tzaddik rising, they prowl around him to humiliate him and bring down his glory. Why? Because the honor of the wicked exists only when the base and contemptible receive honor; but if honor is given to the upright - who will honor the wicked? Yet being a tzaddik and upright requires great labor, and that is not for him. If so, what then? "I will demean the tzaddik and the upright, and then people will automatically see how righteous I am."
And this is exactly what the media does all day long. The secular educational system is corrupt and deteriorated - terrible troubles, regular police intervention, knives, and whatnot - and how do they divert attention from the situation? By talking about the chareidi educational system, claiming it is supposedly flawed, lacks a core curriculum, and teaches children to spit at seven-year-old girls. Are there structured spitting classes there, and exams measuring how far you have learned to spit? They must portray the upright and the righteous in a defamatory light so that they themselves gain prestige - for otherwise, they diminish and honor is given to the religious. How should one prevent him from getting honor? You could be upright and righteous yourself! But that takes effort; so instead, demean him, and once people believe they are corrupt, they will think you are the righteous one.
Similarly, they claim that among the righteous there is "exclusion of women," and suddenly the average secular person becomes a champion of women's honor. Yet there is hardly a product, even the most trivial, where a woman is not used as a billboard to advertise it. In what capacity are you presenting her? As an object? And you claim to honor women? And where are the battered women - go and check those shelters, are they the wives of chareidim? The percentages there are negligible. Go and check who degrades women - us, or those far removed from Torah? And everyone has already heard the degrading, humiliating expressions used by supposedly distinguished figures when women performed there, expressions that cannot even be repeated.
And likewise regarding the drafting of women: it has been pointed out several times that maintaining women in the army is very costly and not worthwhile, and there were calls to end it - so why do they bring them in? To boost the soldiers' morale and motivation, so they will not be bored. What a disgrace: you bring her as a plaything! And these people dare to turn around and accuse Torah-observant Jews of disrespecting women - why? Because they believe a woman should not have to brush against men on a bus. And the women themselves ask for this: when standing in a crowded bus, not every passerby needs to brush against her; one does not need to possess an exceptionally high standard of modesty to understand such a thing.
And people ask: Why are the women behind? Is there some special importance to being in the back? Rather, a woman does not have an issue looking at a man, but a man has an issue looking at a woman; therefore, when the man sits in front facing forward, the woman sits behind him. Similarly, one could ask: Why in the synagogue are the women upstairs in the balcony while the men are downstairs - is that respectful? The reason is purely one of modesty: if the man were upstairs, he would look down at the women below, but when the man is downstairs, there is no issue with the woman being above. And what does it matter whether it is upstairs or downstairs, right or left? The entire reason is modesty; yet people come and present this in a humiliating and degrading way, and then everyone "understands" who the righteous ones are. This is the way of the fool and the wicked: the wicked person must demean the righteous person in order to legitimize himself and be honored in the eyes of others as an upright and righteous man.
The Vilna Gaon explains the verse in light of what is written in Iyov: "And you shall know that your tent is at peace, and you will visit your dwelling and miss nothing." Throughout the days of the week, a person is occupied with labor in the field, and he does not have a villa there, but only a hut and a tent; and on Shabbat, he arrives home. The field is a dangerous place - wild beasts and bandits - and this is the meaning of "And you shall know that your tent is at peace," safe from beasts and bandits. And "and you will visit your dwelling and miss nothing" means that nothing will be lacking in your tent, for "techeta" here is in the sense of lack or missing.
And why is he not concerned? Because a person does not leave his precious vessels in the field; rather, he keeps them at home. When he returns home on Shabbat, the vessels are with him, and he does not fear that wild beasts and bandits will come and take them - for he never placed them there. Thus, he lacks nothing.
From here to the parable's moral: for the wicked, their home is permanence, whereas for the righteous, it is in the aspect of a temporary tent. We have already explained this more than once: the wicked person's home is here in this world, this is his entire world, and therefore he invests so much in it. The righteous person, by contrast, has a home of utmost simplicity; he says: my villa is Above, I do not invest in curtains here, as was related about the Chafetz Chaim. And this is "The house of the wicked shall be destroyed" - this refers to this world, which is their entire focus, and it too is destined to be destroyed. By contrast, "but the tent of the upright shall flourish": you look at it and say, what is this, just a tent? Yet it is that very tent that will ultimately flourish.
Why? Because his vessels are preserved at home. The righteous person arrives at the day that is entirely Shabbat - the life of the World to Come - and says: I am not worried about the tent, why should I care about it, the vessels are with me. And what are the vessels in the moral? The Torah, the mitzvot, and the good deeds that he performed; he carries everything with him into the day that is entirely Shabbat. And naturally, "And you shall know that your tent is at peace, and you will visit your dwelling and miss nothing" - you will lack nothing, for you will visit your true dwelling on the day that is entirely Shabbat, and there you will not lack, in the sense of lack, as in the phrase "I and my son Solomon shall be considered missing," that is, lacking, or like "missing the mark," as mentioned several times. When you arrive and visit your dwelling, you will find all your merits with you. But "The house of the wicked shall be destroyed": he will say, I invested and built, what happened to all of it? And they will say to him: nothing remains for you from all that. You arrived Above to the tent - and you have nothing from it.
The three verses teach us about the power of the inner heart. "Fools mock at guilt" - the fool speaks without composure and is afterwards forced to justify and excuse his guilt, while deep inside his heart knows that he is guilty; whereas the upright person reflects within himself before speaking, and his heart advocates favor and joy within him, which bear witness that his deeds are upright. "The heart knows its own bitterness" - this awareness is entirely internal, and no one from the outside can feel it; in the moment of truth, it is revealed even in the greatest skeptic, and in the future to come, the joy of the reward belongs to the one who toiled and labored, and therefore, precisely out of this awareness, a person should be generous-spirited and transmit his Torah to others. And "The house of the wicked shall be destroyed, but the tent of the upright shall flourish" - the upright person cannot flourish in the company of the wicked, whose way is to demean the righteous in order to legitimize themselves; yet ultimately the material, permanent house is destroyed, while the temporary tent of the upright - whose vessels are all preserved in the true Home - will flourish on the day that is entirely Shabbat.