Introduction
In the passage before us, King Solomon continues the line of thought we began: the distinction between what appears on the outside and what the heart knows within. We learned that the fool's heart transmits to him that he is not in good standing, while the upright person's heart testifies to him that his deeds are pleasing. From here onward, Solomon shows how this inner sense allows a person not to be captive to outward appearances: not to be dazzled by the success of the wicked, and not to be dismayed by the poverty of the upright. Let us study these verses through the commentaries of Rashi, the Vilna Gaon, and the Malbim.
The House of the Wicked Will Be Destroyed - The Eye Sees and the Heart Knows
בֵּית רְשָׁעִים יִשָּׁמֵד וְאֹהֶל יְשָׁרִים יַפְרִיחַ׃ (יא) - The house of the wicked will be destroyed, but the tent of the upright will flourish. (11)
The Malbim continues the line of thought we explained: because these feelings reside deep within a person's heart, he knows the truth even when his eyes behold something else. He looks at the house of the wicked - it is a solid house, well-built, well-invested, a true palace - yet he does not let his eyes deceive him. Deep down he knows: its end is to be destroyed; nothing of it will remain. On the other hand, he sees the "tent of the upright", the upright person living in a tent, in poverty, persecuted - and despite all this, he knows that ultimately it will flourish. He does not possess a permanent house, it is only a tent, but it is destined to blossom and grow exceedingly.
The heart does not allow a person to deceive himself when the heart is upright. The truth remains hidden in his heart; inside he knows, and being honest and upright with himself, he recognizes this truth. This is the inner awareness that exists both within the fool and within the upright; everyone perceives this inner sense, if they are honest enough.
There Is a Way That Seems Straight to a Man - Rashi's Commentary
יֵשׁ דֶּרֶךְ יָשָׁר לִפְנֵי־אִישׁ וְאַחֲרִיתָהּ דַּרְכֵי־מָוֶת׃ (יב) - There is a way that seems straight to a man, but its end is the ways of death. (12)
Rashi explains according to the plain meaning: a person commits a transgression and says, "There is no sin here. It is fine, it is nothing, not a big deal." He sees worms from the outside and says: "It is fine, one can eat it, bon appétit, it is nothing." He eats it and that is that, feeling nothing wrong. "Seems straight to a man" - he does not feel at all that he has a problem, not feeling that he is transgressing.
Rashi adds another explanation that weaves together all the verses we read. Regarding "The heart knows its own soul's bitterness, and no stranger shares in its joy" - this refers to the Jewish people, who are bitter of soul in exile and are martyred for the sanctification of Hashem's Name (Kiddush Hashem). And know that in the Future to Come, when the Holy One, blessed be He, rewards the Jewish people for all that they were afflicted and tormented, "no stranger shares in its joy" - the nations will have no part in this. They will come and plead, "Give us a mitzvah and we will perform it." The Holy One, blessed be He, will give them the mitzvah of Sukkah and make the sun beat down on them, and they will leave and kick it. Even with this second chance they will not endure, because they did not endure what the Jewish people endured. "The heart knows its own soul's bitterness" - the Jewish people suffer bitterness of soul in exile, and therefore no stranger will share in their future joy.
Similarly, "The house of the wicked will be destroyed" - this is the house of Edom, meaning the nations of the world, which will be destroyed. In contrast, "the tent of the upright" - this is the Jewish people, whose Beit HaMikdash will ultimately blossom and flourish. And "There is a way that seems straight to a man" - the way of the lazy man seems straight in the eyes of Esau, who is the "man" referred to here, as it is written, "a man skilled in hunting, a man of the field"; the way of the lazy seems straight in his eyes, and he thinks this is the correct path.
The Vilna Gaon's Commentary: Do Not Rely on Your Own Intellect
The Vilna Gaon explains: sometimes a person imagines in his heart that a certain path is a single, clear, obvious path - the very path of uprightness. Yet know that sometimes "its end is the ways of death" - ultimately, several paths branch off from it, and all of them lead to death, failure, and ruin. Notice the plural form: "the ways of" - even though it splits into many paths, all of them lead to death. And this is precisely the shock: when I began walking, everything seemed paved and straight, but in the end I suddenly saw that it branched into paths that are all failure, ruin, sorrow, and heartache.
If so, what is the counsel? The Vilna Gaon says: a person must be extremely careful and not rely on his own intellect at all. For if he relies on his intellect, there is a very high likelihood that his intellect will mislead him: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can know it?" The mind can tell you, "It is worthwhile for you to do this," while in truth the thought stems from desire and an inner drive, and it will not show you the correct path. And do not say that this applies only to a simple person, whereas a talmid chacham is different - the Gaon says: no. "There is a way that seems right to a man [ish]" - even a talmid chacham, who is termed an ish, must nevertheless not rely solely on his own intellect.
What, then, should he do? He should consult with others, hear the perspective of others, for "he who heeds counsel is wise." Even if the path seems straight to you, and even if you are a talmid chacham - remember that sometimes there is a way that seems right to a man, yet its end is the ways of death. "And deliverance comes through an abundance of counselors": consult, ask, and clarify, and then you will truly be able to choose the right path, one in which you will not stumble.
The Malbim's Explanation: The Path That Begins as a Plain and Ends in Thorns
The Malbim continues his line of thought: sometimes the way of the fool seems right in his eyes because at first, the fool's path appears smooth and straight, whereas the way of wisdom initially appears full of thorns and briers. And why? Because on the fool's path a person walks with ease and pleasure, while on the path of wisdom he walks with difficulty. "I feel like it" - and they tell me: no, sir; right now you have to close your mouth and not eat, now you have to close your mouth and not speak, now you are forbidden to look there, now this and that are prohibited. At first it is difficult, at first it restricts a person, and he feels: that fellow walks carefree, and only for me is this forbidden and that forbidden. This is a path whose beginning is thorns and whose end is a level plain.
Conversely, the way of the fool initially appears to be a level plain, for he simply follows whatever he feels like doing. But what is he actually doing? He intensifies desire within himself, until ultimately he finds no satisfaction even in those very desires, because he has stoked the craving and indulged every whim to the point that it no longer excites him - and then he reaches the true thorns and briers.
Consider this question: which child enjoys a candy more - the one who receives a candy three times a day, or the one who receives it only on Shabbat? Only on Shabbat. For the first child, after the seventeenth candy, it is no longer an experience. "Fine, a candy, put it aside - but what about ice cream?" Okay, from now on, ice cream three times a day. Then he wants a gourmet bar, and after that something new - because such is the nature of desire. Indeed, at the beginning of the road it is difficult not to eat a candy every day, but your enjoyment of that candy is multiplied manifold; and not only that, but throughout your entire life you will continue to enjoy it, whereas for him a stage arrives when a candy means nothing at all.
And the candy here is merely an analogy for all human desires. Why do we see so many insanities and perversions today that did not exist in the past? The explanation is simple. When you tell a person, "Take everything, indulge in every desire" - how much can he actually enjoy? He begins to need new thrills, different sensations, and he arrives at all kinds of aberrations and insanities that a person could never have imagined. In the past, to satisfy an ordinary desire, he had to make an effort; today, he does not have to make any effort at all, and therefore all these standard things no longer appeal to him.
It turns out that precisely what initially appears as a "straight path" - do whatever you feel like doing - is the one whose end is the ways of death. In contrast, the path that is initially rugged and fraught with obstacles, requiring one to overcome desire, restrain one's wishes, tell oneself "no," and delay gratification - that path is difficult, but its end is the ways of life. That is what will ultimately bring joy: "I succeeded in overcoming the yetzer hara." What satisfaction a person feels when he succeeds in saying "no" to himself! What satisfaction a person feels when he knows he succeeded in quitting smoking: "I have a backbone; I am a person with willpower." But one who tries and breaks, and tries and breaks again, experiences crisis and distress: "I tried again, and I have no backbone, I am unable to say 'no' to myself, every little thing draws me away." There is no greater pleasure than the triumph of overcoming a desire and a craving.
What Is Education?
On this subject, Rav Shteinman made a sharp observation. He asked a simple question, whose profundity becomes evident to anyone who reflects upon it: by what right is the secular education system worthy of being called an "education system"? For what is education? A student comes and wants to do something; I, the adult, know what is right and good for him, and I tell him: no, do not do that, because it will ruin and corrupt you. By withholding it from him, I have educated him. And if I have also brought him to understand why, that is already more than mere training - it is true education: that he should understand on his own why that corrupt path is not good for him.
Yet when a student in the secular system wants to do something, what does the educator tell him? Go ahead, why not. You do not need to restrict yourself; go wherever you feel like, do whatever you feel like, browse wherever you feel like. If so, what have you educated? Where is the education? Education means that I instruct you how to behave; but if I tell you, "Act according to your nature, be free, if you feel like it, go for it" - what have I shaped in you? After all, to educate means to shape character, and I have shaped nothing at all.
And this is the meaning of "There is a way that seems right to a man": do not be swayed by the fact that it appears straight and pleasant at first, or that he initially does whatever he pleases - for its end is the ways of death. As has been discussed at length elsewhere, and to note only in brief: the pleasure of a person who is far from mitzvos, who does not bind himself to the framework of marriage and lives footloose and free, is a pleasure of fifteen to twenty years, between the ages of fifteen and thirty or thirty-five, and from that point the crisis begins. In contrast, it is precisely from that point that the shomer mitzvos begins to reap the dividends and see a return on his investment: he already has a large family, he marries off children, there are grandchildren and great-grandchildren, there are simchas, there is happiness, and he is respected. A neighbor, not yet seventy years old, was already marrying off a great-grandchild, saying: "Wish me mazal tov!" What immense joy a person has - "Your children like olive shoots."
And the other one? True, he "burned through" those twenty years; one wasn't where he was and didn't indulge in what he enjoyed - but what does he have now? He has no home, no family, no children, and it is all over. And when he suddenly wants to build a home and settle down, he is already older, and changing one's ingrained nature is exceedingly difficult. A thirty-five-year-old man meets a thirty-year-old woman, and now try starting to live together and yielding one's will to another: "I have been living this way for thirty-five years; are you going to tell me how to live?" "I have lived this way for thirty years; are you going to tell me what to do now?" Such a marriage does not stand much of a chance, and sadly this is reality - when people marry late, building a marital bond is very difficult, because each has grown accustomed to living life independently. Therefore, "There is a way that seems right to a man" - let no one mislead you; "yet its end is the ways of death."
Even in Laughter the Heart Aches - Rashi's Explanation
גַּם־בִּשְׂחֹק יִכְאַב־לֵב וְאַחֲרִיתָהּ שִׂמְחָה תוּגָה׃ (יג) - Even in laughter the heart aches, and the end of that joy is grief (14:13).
Rashi explains: even during the laughter with which the Holy One, blessed be He, smiles upon them in this world - their heart will ache in the Future to Come, as it is written: "And you shall cry out from heartbreak." One who looks at the nations of the world seemingly sees that Hashem smiles upon them in this world: all is well with them, they prosper, they are superpowers, no one persecutes them, and they live in peace and serenity without two hundred and fifty million people surrounding them and longing at every moment to devour and swallow them up. People live pleasantly in Switzerland, and likewise in other countries across the world that feel no threat, suffer no pressure, and have no crazed megalomaniac in Iran waving an atomic bomb and threatening to destroy them. Seemingly, Hashem smiles upon them and shows them a cheerful countenance.
Yet the verse states: know that "even in laughter the heart aches," and ultimately the "end" of that joy is "grief." In contrast, precisely those who presently appear to be in grief - the Jewish people, who seemingly suffer, as in "The heart knows its own bitterness" - are now in their bitterness of soul, yet "no stranger will share in its joy," and in the end the joy will belong exclusively to them. And as for those who rejoice today - do not be overly impressed by them, for the end of their joy is grief.
The Vilna Gaon's Explanation: The Measure of Joy Dictates the Measure of Grief
The Vilna Gaon raises two difficulties in this verse. First, what is the meaning of "Even" (gam)? The verse opens with "even," a word that connects to something stated previously - and what was stated previously? Second, what is the meaning of "and the end of that joy is grief" - what is the nature of this "end"?
The Vilna Gaon explains: a person in this world has no true joy except the joy a father takes in his children. And if that is the greatest joy, what is the greatest sorrow? The pain of raising children. To elucidate this, he relates a parable.
There was once a king who was presented with a table peerless in all the world, wonderfully beautiful, adorned with precious gems, a true wonder of the world. The king rejoiced exceedingly, sent for all his wise men, asked their opinion of the table, and boasted of it greatly: "Behold what a table, what beauty!" Each wise man praised the table and spoke wondrously of it, but one wise man answered and said that this table would bring only grief and sighing. Fortunately for him, this was a gracious and merciful king, for any other king would have had him beheaded.
Time passed, and on one occasion the king boarded a ship. Because he was so deeply attached to the table, he carried it with him wherever he went, and brought it along this time as well. While the table was being transferred onto the vessel, it fell and sank into the water. All the mariners and oarsmen dove in to retrieve it, but they were unable to do so, and out of sheer heartbreak the king fell ill. That wise man said: "This is precisely what I told you; I warned you in advance that this table would bring you only grief and sighing." The king asked him: "Are you a prophet that you knew all this? How did you know I would suffer sorrow from it, something that was by no means inevitable?" The wise man answered: "I am neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet, but this is the principle I have received: corresponding to the degree of joy is the magnitude of grief, for when something happens to it, the grief is exceedingly great."
One can see this in an example: what is the greatest excitement and joy a person experiences? When a son is born to him. And what is the greatest disaster that could befall him, may no one know such trouble? To be a bereaved father, to lose his son; this is the most terrible grief, as it is for a mother who loses her child. One does not say, "I lost millions" - that cannot compare to a person who has lost his child. And there are people, may Hashem protect us, who do not emerge from the trauma for years, becoming hollow shells of themselves, living as though dead in the wake of such a tragedy. This, by the way, reflects a lack of faith, for people of faith know: "Hashem gave and Hashem took, blessed be the name of Hashem," and it is good for the child that Hashem took him, for that was his soul's rectification, and in this he fulfilled his purpose. A person of faith does not sink into depression.
And if you ask about Yaakov Avinu - with Yaakov it was because a decree was placed upon the dead that they be forgotten from the heart, and Yosef was not dead, but alive. Furthermore, the main part of Yaakov's grief was not at all over the loss of Yosef as a son. Certainly he felt pain over that, but his primary grief was over the loss of Yosef's spiritual stature, and that his bed was not complete - that he had not succeeded in his mission to establish the twelve tribes of Hashem, for one was missing, and consequently he had not fulfilled his purpose in this world at all. Over this lay the core of his grief.
We have already discussed this: this is why when Reuven came and proposed to Yaakov, "Give me Binyamin, and if I do not bring him back to you, you may put my two sons to death," Yaakov paid no attention to him at all. Yet when Yehudah came and said, "Give me Binyamin, and if I do not bring him back to you, I will have sinned against my father all the days" - meaning, I will be banished from the World to Come - Yaakov said to him: Fine, with you I can do business; take Binyamin, "take of the best fruits of the land... a little balm, and a little honey, spices and ladanum," take down a present to the man.
And why did he not want to do business with Reuven? This is the very point. Yaakov says to Reuven: You did not understand what this is about at all. You are certain that there is a father here who misses his son Binyamin, a cute and sweet child, and so you offer: I also have two sweet children, take them instead of him. Is that my issue? A father's love for his child? You do not understand what is at stake here at all. But Yehudah came and said: Father, I pledge my entire World to Come - that is, I pledge something spiritual. Yaakov said to him: You understand the matter; you know that I have a spiritual problem if Binyamin is gone, not merely that my son is absent. Certainly that also pained Yaakov; certainly he had a heart of flesh, but that is not the main point. The main point is that I have lost my mission in the world to establish the twelve tribes of Hashem. And if you offer me something of equal value - the World to Come - then you truly know what hangs in the balance here.
To summarize the words of the Vilna Gaon: with anything where the joy is great, so too upon its loss the grief will be very great. And so it is with laughter (sechok), except that with laughter there is something additional and greater than joy. In joy, at least at the time of joy, one rejoices; but with laughter, sometimes right in the midst of the laughter itself, one's heart aches. And this is "Even in laughter [the heart aches]" - sometimes even in the middle of laughter the heart aches. "And its end" - the end of laughter and also the end of joy, of both of them, is sorrow.
That is, there is joy (simchah) and there is laughter (sechok). In joy, at least at the time of joy, you rejoice with a complete joy; but laughter is lesser than joy, for it can be "Of laughter I said, it is mad" - one laughs, and inside there is also sadness, there is also something of pain. This is laughter, this is amusement, but it is not complete joy. And Scripture comes to say: not only with complete joy is its end sorrow, but even with laughter. Lest you say: if this is not the peak of joy, then there will not be the peak of sadness at its end - for "God has made one opposite the other," and the most joyful thing ultimately causes the saddest thing. Scripture says: No. Even in laughter, even if it is not the most joyful, know that sorrow can ultimately come from it as well. "And the end of joy is sorrow" - the end of both of them, laughter and joy, can come to sorrow, for in proportion to the joy, so is the magnitude of the sorrow.
The Malbim's Explanation: Laughter on the Outside and Pain on the Inside
The Malbim continues his approach, that the heart knows its own soul's bitterness: even though you see the fool laughing, fortune is smiling upon him, things are going well for him, he is riding the crest of the wave and on top - do not be overly impressed by this. You are not inside his heart and you do not know what is happening within him, and he knows deep down that all this joy will end, and that its end is sorrow.
And what is the difference between laughter and joy? The Malbim explains: laughter is only external, whereas joy is in the heart. And there are those who weep and laugh - weeping in their heart while laughing with their mouth. This is similar to what the Vilna Gaon explained, that laughter includes sadness within it: it is possible that I laugh outwardly, while inwardly I am not at peace with myself and not rejoicing with full joy. As was said of Rabbi Akiva, that he wept and laughed.
And this is what Scripture says: one may laugh, but know that in this laughter the heart aches. And why does his heart ache? Because he knows that the end will be sorrow. He knows that all his current success is entirely against the will of Hashem, entirely through transgressions, through the wrong deeds he performs, by causing grief to others - and he knows that in the end he will pay for it. Externally it is laughter, but internally the heart aches; inside, his heart pains him over his corrupted deeds.
In summary:
The three verses we have learned teach us not to judge by appearances. "The house of the wicked will be destroyed, but the tent of the upright will flourish" - the upright heart knows the truth even when the eyes see a palace on one side and a tent on the other. "There is a way that seems right to a man" - warns us not to rely on our own intellect and initial feeling of uprightness, but to seek counsel and heed advice; for the path of lust, whose beginning is level ground, ends in thorns and paths of death, whereas the path of wisdom, whose beginning is thorns, ends in level ground, life, and the genuine joy of self-mastery. "Even in laughter the heart aches" - for in proportion to the joy, so is the magnitude of the grief, and the outward laughter of the seemingly successful conceals internal heartache and an ultimate end of sorrow. In contrast to them, the Jewish people, whose heart knows the bitterness of its soul in exile, is destined to rejoice with a complete joy in which no stranger can share.