At the end of chapter 15, King Solomon juxtaposes man's two great portals of perception: what one sees with one's eyes and what one hears with one's ears. The two verses before us appear to be separate parables, but the commentators - Rashi, Rabbeinu Yonah, the Vilna Gaon, and the Malbim - connect them to one another, each revealing a different perspective: what the virtue of sight is, what the virtue of hearing is, and what this demands of us in practice.
מְאוֹר־עֵינַיִם יְשַׂמַּח־לֵב, שְׁמוּעָה טוֹבָה תְּדַשֶּׁן־עָצֶם׃ (פסוק ל) - "The light of the eyes rejoices the heart; good tidings make the bones fat." (verse 30)
Rashi explains this in two ways. The first: "the light of the eyes" refers to Torah - one whose eyes the Holy One, blessed be He, has enlightened in the holy Torah has a joyful heart, for when he is asked a matter of Halachah, he knows how to answer. There is great joy of heart in this. The second explanation is particularly intriguing, and fitting for the vacation days of Bein Hazemanim: something that is a delight to the eyes gladdens the heart and cleanses away its sorrow, such as a lush vegetable garden and flowing streams. When a person stands before scenery, facing a mighty waterfall or magnificent mountains - for which the Sages even instituted blessings - he receives an expansiveness, a good feeling, green before his eyes. Contrast this with someone standing before endless towers of concrete and iron, or facing rocky wastelands and deserts. A lush garden and flowing springs brighten a person's eyes and expand his heart.
From this emerges an essential lesson in personal growth. A person in low spirits naturally tends to withdraw: he does not want to see anyone, nor talk to anyone. Sometimes he retreats into his room, sometimes into bed, and sometimes even deep beneath the blanket. This is a mistake. The more one isolates oneself, the deeper one sinks. On the contrary: go out into open spaces, view the landscape, spend time around people - and through that emergence, one breaks free from that state. This does not refer to a clinical condition, someone who requires a psychiatrist and medication, nor to deep clinical depression; it refers to a person experiencing a temporary cloudiness, sadness, or mild gloom. In such a state - do not sink into it. If one broods and digs deeper, it becomes very difficult to emerge.
Often, when someone is asked why he did not attend a shiur, he replies: "Lately I have not been leaving the house; I don't feel good, and I don't want to see anyone." The proper response to him is: Precisely for that reason, come! Withdrawing will only bury you. When someone feels he is beginning to slide, he should know that sliding is easy and even deceptively comfortable, because sliding means simply surrendering to what is happening. One retreats into self-pity and settles into it comfortably, finding that state accommodating. Going out to a wedding, dancing, or being around others feels uncomfortable. To this, the guidance is clear: do not do merely what feels comfortable.
What is this comparable to? A person beginning to freeze tends to fall asleep, and it feels entirely comfortable. But this is the sleep of death, for body temperature drops even lower in sleep - an icy, painless departure that he does not feel at all. The primary warning in that situation is singular: do not sink into it! If you feel yourself drifting off from the bitter cold - get up, shake yourself off, move around, and that will save you. Otherwise, you will turn into a block of ice. It is precisely the same with low spirits: step out of them, and do not remain trapped within.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains that light expands a person's heart, even in a physical sense. When a person sits in darkness, he is more constricted in his actions, less open, and more withdrawn; but when there is light, there is greater joy. In modern terms, this is known as "winter depression" (seasonal affective disorder): some people sink into a slump with the arrival of winter. In Eretz Yisrael this is less common, but in places like Britain, where in the winter it feels as if the sun has been switched off, a very large segment of the population suffers from it. "The light of the eyes rejoices the heart" - the light received through the eyes is the exact opposite of depression. Similarly, the Sages stated regarding Halachah: "Shemata ba'ya tziluta" (Torah analysis requires clarity of mind) - to arrive at a correct halachic ruling, one needs clarity, light, and total lucidity.
However, a good report, Rabbeinu Yonah explains, possesses an additional advantage: it does not merely gladden the heart, but "fattens the bone" - the bones themselves begin, as it were, to flourish. Thus, the benefit of the ear is greater than that of the eye: "light of the eyes" affects the heart, whereas a good report reaches all the way to the bone. Proof of this can be found in the words of Chazal that one who injures his fellow and deafens him must pay him his full value - even though a blind person is also considered as dead, deafness is even more severe, and for it one pays his full value. And if the ear is such an exalted organ, even more so than the eye, which is itself an exalted organ, how great is the obligation to serve one's Creator with it, and how bitter and grave it is to idle it from its true purpose.
This also serves as a great warning: the Sages stated that the ear is scorched before all other limbs - it is the first to suffer damage. Therefore, how far one must distance oneself from every form of improper listening! Some say, "After all, there are no pictures; it is just radio." But this is not so - when one listens to mockery, ridicule of holy matters, of the Torah leaders of Israel, and of the performance of mitzvot, the ear is scorched before all other limbs. From here, says Rabbeinu Yonah, we can understand the continuation in the next verse: "An ear that listens to life-giving rebuke shall lodge among the wise" - once the sublime quality of hearing has become clear, it is obvious that such an ear will lodge among the wise.
The Vilna Gaon delves deeper along this same line. The Written Torah corresponds to sight - for it is written down and permitted to be written, and in order to study it, one must open the book and see: "Open my eyes, that I may behold wonders from Your Torah." In contrast, the Oral Torah is true to its name: it was not written down, and its entire transmission from master to disciple was through the power of hearing. Sight represents the Written Torah; hearing represents the Oral Torah, where the halachot are found.
The Gaon further explains that the primary secrets of the Torah are concealed within the Written Torah. One who looks at the Torah superficially sees none of them. Thus, for example: "And these are the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the Children of Israel" - Bela son of Beor and the name of his city was Dinhabah, and all those names. Seemingly, why should it interest us who reigned before whom? Yet the holy Ari expounds all of this according to the secrets of Kabbalah, showing that these passages speak of the shattering of the vessels, before the Holy One, blessed be He, created the four worlds, during the eras of Tohu. Likewise regarding Yaakov: why should we care about "streaked, speckled, and spotted"? Seemingly, it would have sufficed to say that Yaakov devised a strategy to transfer Lavan's sheep to himself, yet the Torah elaborates at length on the peelings and the rods. One who has studied knows that these matters speak of spiritual worlds - the world of Akudim, the world of Nekudim, and the world of Berudim, worlds prior to the descent into the world of Atzilut.
According to this, the verse is illuminated: "Light of the eyes" is the aspect of sight, the Written Torah, in which the esoteric secrets are hidden - and therefore it "gladdens the heart." For the place of a secret is in the heart; when someone has a secret, it is kept guarded in his heart. Secrets are not transmitted to just anyone, and therefore their joy remains internal, in the heart of the one privileged to attain them. But a "good report" - this is Halachah, a fine legal ruling, a novel halachic insight, a good teaching one has heard. This he does not keep guarded in his heart, for it is not among the hidden secrets of the Torah, but rather something taught to all. On the contrary, he goes and shares it with others: "Did you hear this novel insight? This is the halachic ruling!" A report (shemu'ah), related to hearing (shemi'ah), representing the Oral Torah - there is a mitzvah to pass it along, and therefore it "fattens the bone," invigorating even the bones of the listener. In contrast, the light of the eyes, which refers to the secrets of the Torah, remains hidden away in the heart.
אֹזֶן שֹׁמַעַת תּוֹכַחַת חַיִּים, בְּקֶרֶב חֲכָמִים תָּלִין׃ (פסוק לא) - "An ear that hears life-giving rebuke shall lodge among the wise." (Verse 31)
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: Just as it is fitting for the intellectuals to sit in the company of the wise - which is the natural place for one who contemplates, delves deep, and studies - so too, "an ear that hears life-giving rebuke shall lodge among the wise," even if its possessor is not among the intellectuals. When a person goes to the beit midrash even though he lacks the intellectual capacity to study in depth, he gains two distinct virtues. First, his ear hears life-giving rebuke from those who are studying - even if he does not study himself, from here he hears a word of mussar, from there he absorbs a halachic principle, and from another source he learns that a certain action is forbidden. The ear listens and absorbs.
And the second virtue: "shall lodge among the wise" - there he finds shelter and refuge. Then, even if one has not reached the fulfillment of mitzvot through profound scholarship and understanding, he is at least saved from transgressions. In the beit midrash, a person is far more shielded from sins: there are no forbidden sights, no lashon hara, no talebearing, and no idle chatter. All the sins found outside are absent, for here everyone sits and learns. Thus, even if he does not fulfill mitzvot through active performance ("arise and do"), he fulfills them at least through restraint ("sit and do not do").
The Vilna Gaon observes: This is what Ruth said to her mother-in-law, "Wherever you go I will go, and wherever you lodge I will lodge." Chazal expounded "wherever you go I will go" as referring to positive commandments, for walking expresses action and deed; "and wherever you lodge I will lodge" refers to negative commandments, for lodging denotes restraint - sitting and abstaining from sin, like someone who has gone to sleep. From whatever things you refrain, I too will lodge and refrain from doing. This is the meaning of "shall lodge among the wise": at the very least, he will avoid the negative prohibitions, will not commit sins, and will stay sheltered and restrained from transgressing the words of the Torah. Thus, "an ear that hears rebuke" relates to positive commandments, while "shall lodge among the wise" relates to negative commandments.
The Vilna Gaon adds another explanation: "shall lodge among the wise" refers to the World to Come. An ear that heard the rebuke of mussar in this world will be joined and connected to the wise in the World to Come, since it already formed a bond with them here and was connected to the righteous. The Gaon explains that Ruth said six things to her mother-in-law - "wherever you go I will go," "and wherever you lodge I will lodge," "your people shall be my people," "and your God my God," "where you die I will die," "and there will I be buried" - and these correspond to six descending levels. "You go I will go" is the highest level; below it is "you lodge I will lodge"; below that is "your people shall be my people," and so on. A person whose ear hears life-giving rebuke attains the second highest level: not "wherever you go I will go," to be literally everywhere the sage goes on that exact same level, but "wherever you lodge I will lodge" - he will lodge in the shelter of the sage's wings and remain with him in the life of the World to Come at that level.
The Malbim connects the two verses to one another. "Light of the eyes rejoices the heart" - when a person sees something that brings him pleasure and delight, such as gardens, orchards, and beautiful scenery, it gladdens his heart. The heart is the dwelling place of the soul's faculties and their foundation, serving as the governing power within man. "Good tidings make the bone fat" - hearing is perception from a distance, and its impact is on the body's structure, fattening the bone. Thus, what a person sees builds his soul, and what he hears builds his body. Which is greater? Surely the joy of the heart is greater than fattening the bone, for the heart's joy is spiritual, while the fattening of the bone is physical and material; and the heart is the source of all the vital forces in the human body. Therefore, the stature of "light of the eyes" is higher than that of "good tidings."
From here follows the continuation: "An ear that hears life-giving rebuke" - that discerning ear will not settle for hearing from a distance alone, whose entire effect is merely fattening the bone, a physical matter. It seeks the higher level, "the light of the eyes rejoices the heart," which is an inner, spiritual joy. Therefore, it goes and "lodges among the wise": to see the sages themselves, to observe their deeds. "Serving Torah scholars is greater than studying Torah" - the sight of the eye accomplishes more than the hearing of the ear.
Put simply: a person might say, "I listen to the scholar at home on a CD or an audio player - hearing alone is enough for me." But one can also come and see the scholar in a shiur: to be present in the Gemara shiur, the Halachah shiur, or whichever class it may be, to see him with one's own eyes and physically be there. We are told: surely "lodging among the wise" is a much higher level than merely having a "hearing ear." Many other advantages accompany this as well: one who walks to the shiur receives the reward for walking; one who is present in the shiur takes a reward equivalent to all of them; and in the shiur, he can also ask questions. If he heard a halachah on a recording and had difficulty understanding it, here he can ask and receive clarification. Moreover, one who listens while busy doing something else is not fully focused, and the words do not truly penetrate, whereas in a shiur he is concentrated, hearing the words directly before the teacher. Above all, he merits serving the sage - and serving Torah scholars is greater than studying Torah itself.
To what extent does this reach? The Gemara recounts: I saw Rabbi Meir from behind, and had I seen him from the front, I would have become much wiser. Thus, even for someone who is already present in the Beit Midrash, the "light of the eyes" - seeing the sage's face - elevates his level of receptivity far beyond one who only sees him from behind. This is the meaning of "And your eyes shall behold your teachers."
These two verses teach us the power of the senses in man's divine service. "Light of the eyes rejoices the heart" - light, whether the light of Torah or the light of a magnificent vista, expands the heart and lifts a person out of dejection; hence the advice not to isolate oneself indoors but to go out, for isolation deepens gloom. "Good tidings make the bone fat" - hearing has tremendous power, which is why it is so grave to harm the ear or feed it words of scoffing, as the ear is burned first among the limbs. The Vilna Gaon saw in sight the Written Torah and its secrets kept in the heart, and in hearing the Oral Torah transmitted to all. Rabbeinu Yonah taught that there are two merits for anyone who comes to the Beit Midrash: hearing life-giving rebuke and being saved from sin. And the Malbim concluded that a truly discerning ear does not settle for hearing from afar, but seeks proximity to the wise and the sight of their faces, for serving Torah scholars is greater than learning from them.