Introduction: The Tree Planted Upside Down
We continue in Chapter 1 of Tehillim, arriving at the great parable by which the verse describes the perfected person - the parable of the tree. We will follow the explanation of the Malbim, who shows how seven virtues of the righteous person are concentrated in a single verse, and how the wicked person is the exact opposite of them all.
וְהָיָה כְּעֵץ שָׁתוּל עַל פַּלְגֵי מָיִם אֲשֶׁר פִּרְיוֹ יִתֵּן בְּעִתּוֹ וְעָלֵהוּ לֹא יִבּוֹל וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר יַעֲשֶׂה יַצְלִיחַ׃ - And he shall be like a tree transplanted alongside streams of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf does not wither, and in all that he does he shall prosper.
The Malbim explains: If we observe man, we find that besides the vital life force, which is the power of movement, he also possesses a power of growth. For this reason, man is compared to the tree of the field. By the way, this is the place to note that many misunderstand the literal meaning (peshat) of the verse, "For is the tree of the field a man?" (Devarim 20:19). If you ask someone what it means, they will tell you that man is compared to a tree. That is a beautiful homiletical reading (derash), but it is not the literal meaning. The prohibition there is against besieging a city and cutting down its fruit trees, and the Torah asks: "Is the tree of the field a man, that it should enter the siege before you?" - meaning, is the tree a human adversary coming against you in siege? Why make war on trees? Trees provide fruit, and they must not be destroyed. If you must fight, fight against man, but do not cut down the tree. Thus, the verse is phrased as a rhetorical question, not a statement. Nevertheless, the Torah is interpreted on multiple levels, and by way of derash, our Sages teach that man is indeed likened to a tree.
The Malbim continues: It is true that man is likened to a tree, but notice that he is an inverted tree. For what is the source and root from which everything flows in man? The brain, the intellect of man, and from there the pathways branch out to the entire body. The intellect is the root, and it is positioned above, channeling its influence to the hands and feet, which are the branches. Thus, man is a tree planted in heaven: a conventional tree has its roots below, whereas man's root and trunk - his head - are planted above.
From this, the Malbim notes, one can understand that someone immersed in worldly, earthbound pursuits is like a tree planted upside down: his head is down and his feet are in the air. If you saw someone walking on his head, would you not say he is completely deranged? That is precisely the state of someone submerged in material earthly life - his head is buried in the dust of the earth, in physical trivialities, without any connection to spirituality. For this reason, man is the only living creature that walks upright. No other animal walks fully erect; a gorilla or an orangutan might stand up momentarily, but they do not walk upright. Why is man upright? To show you that man connects the earth to the upper realms. In his spiritual essence, he is linked Above, rooted and planted in Heaven. Consequently, he must not cast his head downward, walking on his head and rooting himself in the mundane soil.
And so Chazal taught: The righteous are compared to a tree whose roots are planted in a place of purity, while its canopy extends over an area of ritual impurity, and the wicked are the exact reverse. Now this imagery becomes clear: the root of the righteous person is planted in a place of purity - in the higher realms, his head reaching toward the heavens. The wicked person, by contrast, has his head in the earth, constantly consumed with mundane matters - how to advance financially, when to upgrade his car, when he will get a raise, when he will move into a bigger home. Such a person is a tree planted upside down.
First Virtue: "And He Shall Be Like a Tree" - The Preservation of the Individual, Not Merely the Species
The verse specifically compares the righteous person to a tree, whereas the wicked person is compared to grass. What is the difference? Grass sprouts rapidly - with the first rain the whole field is carpeted in green - but it also withers just as quickly: the first harsh sun dries it out, summer arrives, and everything turns to parched thorns. In the words of the Malbim: "It appears that its entire purpose is only the preservation of its species, not of the individual entity." That is, the grass possesses no enduring existence in its own right; it leaves no lasting imprint and does not survive. Yet it does not vanish entirely - it has seeds, and those seeds sprout the next generation of grass, and so on. The species of grass persists, but the individual stalk leaves nothing behind: in a moment it sprang up, in a moment it was gone, and nothing remains of it.
A tree, on the other hand, grows slowly, but once it matures it bears fruit and provides abundant benefit, and in addition leaves seeds for future generations. This is termed the preservation of its individual self, not merely the preservation of its species: its distinct entity and enduring essence leave an impact. Here, says the Malbim, lies the parable of the perfected person: his first virtue is "And he shall be like a tree" - he is like a tree, not like a blossom or grass that sprouts and vanishes. The masses of humanity, as the Malbim expresses it, do nothing to preserve their individual essence, only their species. A person raised children and passed away - what did he leave behind? Perhaps a monetary inheritance, but spiritually, nothing. In contrast, one who lived in this world, attended Torah classes, studied Torah, fulfilled mitzvot, and raised a blessed generation of upright children cleaved to Hashem - he is a tree, not grass that merely preserves the biological line. One estranged from Torah comes into the world only to produce further generations who will produce further generations - biological preservation alone, like grass. But a person who has perfected his soul is a tree; he possesses eternal existence, for in the world Above he endures forever. Not only does he have continuity through his descendants - "they shall still bring forth fruit in old age" - but he also produces holy fruit of praise: Torah and good deeds that endure for eternity.
Second Virtue: "Transplanted" (Shatul), Not Merely "Planted" (Natu'a)
There is a tree that is planted (natu'a), and there is a tree that is transplanted (shatul). "Natu'a" means it was planted in its spot, and that is all. "Shatul" means it was uprooted from one location and replanted in another. This distinction is precise in the words of Chazal, where the term shetilah implies being uprooted and replanted elsewhere. The Gemara teaches in Avodah Zarah 19a: Anyone who studies from only one master will never see a sign of blessing, as it says, "Like a tree transplanted (shatul)" and not "like a tree planted (natu'a)." One who learns from a single teacher is like a planted tree - planted in this one place, never moving anywhere else; whereas a transplanted tree is one that was planted here, uprooted, and replanted there.
What is the depth of this idea? The Malbim explains that water-saturated plants cannot easily be uprooted and replanted; typically, they wither and dry out. A tree, however, is drier, and can therefore be transplanted from one place and replanted in another. So it is with the righteous person - he does not possess excessive, perishable moisture, and is therefore not like grass that withers in an instant. Items that are extremely moist spoil and dry out quickly, whereas something dry lasts for a long time. A cracker can last for three or four months, while a slice of bread grows mold after just four days. A moist item always has less permanence than a dry one.
And what does this ability to be transferred from place to place represent? That he exists here, and is then transferred there as well - he has existence in the World of Truth. He is uprooted from here and replanted there. The wicked, by contrast, is planted solely here; he has no other place and cannot be transplanted, for he possesses no World to Come, no eternity, and no lasting existence. But the righteous person is in the category of being "transplanted" (shatul) - he has this world, and he also has the World to Come.
The Third Virtue: "By Streams of Water" - Water is None Other than Torah
A tree that is not planted by streams of water is in constant danger: a year of drought arrives and it withers away. But one planted by streams of water always has nourishment, moisture, and steady irrigation, never drying out and never ceasing to exist. What is the parable's deeper meaning? The Malbim explains that "by streams of water" comes to distinguish the righteous from the philosophers. They, too, may act with charity and kindness, but everything stems from human morality and intellectual etiquette. Yet the human intellect often errs and misses the mark. The righteous person, however, is planted by streams of water - and water is none other than Torah. All of his deeds, accomplishments, and conduct draw from the power of the Torah; consequently, he never experiences drought, and there is no situation where he does not know how to act.
For one who relies solely on human intellect, situations inevitably arise where the intellect hits a wall and cannot find a resolution. Once, during a lecture in Be'er Sheva, an educated young man approached and asserted: "I only observe the Ten Commandments, because those were received from Heaven." He was asked: "Interesting. Tell me, do you keep Shabbat?" He replied: "No." "Just to inform you, that is written explicitly in the Ten Commandments." That was a surprise to him, but a far greater surprise lay ahead. When asked: "How do you know how to conduct yourself?", he replied: "I am a moral person; I act according to values of morality and justice, universal justice," along with many similar assertions. He was then challenged: "Let a moral dilemma be put before you, and tell us what you would do." He agreed. "Your partner tells you she has an unplanned pregnancy - what do you do now?" He thought, and thought again, and finally conceded: "You have stumped me." He was intelligent enough to realize that whatever answer he gave would reveal how fragile his moral framework was. Say she should raise the child - can a sixteen-year-old raise a child? Say the child should be placed in an institution - that ruins her life; she will live knowing she has a child stranded in an institution whom she did not raise or care for. Say abortion - when someone's presence is inconvenient, do you put a bullet in their head? That is murder. Here is an example of a moral dilemma for which no human being can provide an absolute answer without the Torah - and countless such examples could be cited.
This is the language of the Malbim: the upright among the philosophers, who acted with righteousness and kindness according to rational ethics, did not find full satisfaction - for the answers found through human intellect never bring true fulfillment, as the intellect's answers are not always correct, nor do they always reassure the mind that this is the truly just and proper path. Not so the one planted by streams of water, who is termed me'ushar (fortunate and validated). And as explained earlier: why is he called me'ushar? Because every action of his has an ishur (divine approval). The Holy One, blessed be He, stamped it: approved. Every action was performed according to Hashem's will - and therefore it is blessed with certainty.
When the wife of Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach passed away, they told him before the burial that it is customary to ask for forgiveness. He replied: "In truth, there is nothing for which I need to ask my wife's forgiveness." Can one imagine this? It is hard to conceive of an ordinary mortal uttering such words; one would have to be an angel for that. He had never hurt his wife. He noted: "It is not that there were never disagreements, but everything was conducted according to the Torah." A person who, at the end of his days after decades of marriage, can say he has no need to ask his wife for forgiveness - why? Because everything was done in accordance with the Torah. Does the Torah ever permit insulting someone because of a disagreement, or causing them pain? That is contrary to the Torah. Therefore, he never insulted, never hurt, and never uttered a remark that could imply slight or grief. When one walks according to the Torah, this is the meaning of me'ushar, for every action bears divine sanction and authorization. One planted by streams of water enjoys constant water, never withers, and finds an answer to every dilemma within the Torah itself.
The Fourth Virtue: "That Yields Its Fruit" - Its Own Unique Fruit
A tree yields fruit, unlike grass and vegetation that merely perpetuate their species without producing fruit, developing no personality and experiencing no spiritual growth - representing people who are distant from Torah and mitzvot. The righteous person, however, yields his fruit: he constantly increases in utility and spiritual greatness year after year, day after day, continually elevating himself and yielding more and more fruit. Furthermore, these are not merely private fruits, but fruits for the entire world: "The whole world is sustained in the merit of My son Chanina" - these are fruits that impact the collective, both here and in the eternal world. He is not like a tree planted in the wasteland, in the desert and barren places, but one that yields its fruit.
The verse is precise in saying "piryoh" (its fruit) rather than merely "fruit": the fruit unique to it, the fruit it was destined to produce, a fruit of supreme quality. One could produce second-rate fruit, substandard produce unfit for export; the verse tells us: no, it yields its own distinct fruit. Furthermore, "its fruit" hints that it is not like the fruit of the nations or of philosophical concepts, where one produces fruit solely from human intellect and speculation - for that is not true fruit. The true fruit, holy fruit, is that which springs from the power of Torah and mitzvot, from the "and in his Torah" discussed in the previous verse; from "his Torah" (Torato) comes "his fruit" (piryo). These are true fruits - fruits of righteousness and integrity according to the holy Torah.
The Fifth Virtue: "In Its Season" - Fruit at the Proper Time
The fifth virtue is that it brings forth its fruit at its designated time. In this world, man often pursues physical pleasures, desires, and material pursuits, unaware that this is not its proper season. If one asks: "Why was man created?", we point to the words of the Mesillat Yesharim - to take delight. He might say: "Wonderful! In that case, I will go seek pleasures." Wait, we have not finished the quote: "to take delight in Hashem." The Torah desires that man attain the pinnacle of pleasure and happiness, but this journey requires traversing a path filled with obstacles, culminating in the perfection of ultimate delight. There is no greater pleasure, writes the Mesillat Yesharim, than cleaving to one's Creator and being attached to Hashem, blessed be He. For this purpose, there is a world of trials, and only after passing through it does one merit this reward. Thus, he yields fruit - but in its season. One who seeks to seize all the indulgences of this world here and now is reaching for fruit out of season. This world is not the time for ultimate enjoyment; the time for true delight is the world of eternity.
When the Vilna Gaon met his sister after years of not seeing each other, she thought they would sit and reminisce about who was born and what had happened over the years. The Gaon greeted her with shalom, and then said: "My dear sister, I would truly love to sit and delight in stories with you, hear how you are, how your husband and children are doing, who got married, and tell you about my own family as well - but this world is brief, and there is no time. A time will come when there will be plenty of time; when a person is in the grave, there is all the time in the world. Then we will speak and then we will meet; I have so much to tell you. But in the meantime, this world is precious" - and he returned to his learning. A person must realize: to be immersed in the pleasures of this world is to seek fruit out of its season. The virtue of the righteous, however, is "which yields its fruit in its season" - and when is that? When his soul reaches the time for receiving its reward, that is when the fruit arrives in its proper season.
The Sixth Virtue: "Its leaf does not wither"
Leaves serve as protectors; they shelter the fruit. They symbolize everything the righteous person requires in this world. A tzaddik cannot live on air: he needs a home and material resources to survive. Even the Sages of Israel engaged in their trades, such as Rabbi Yochanan HaSandlar and his colleagues. But material pursuits are by no means the fruit; they are merely leaves that protect the fruit. Regarding this it is said, "Its leaf does not wither": when a person is immersed in what he ought to be immersed in, the Holy One, blessed be He, ensures that his material needs are arranged in the best possible way, so that he lacks nothing in this regard either.
This is a reality we have noted before: regarding those who dedicate themselves completely to Torah - ask family men, and they will tell you that often the one who left yeshivah early to seek employment still has no apartment and remains unsettled to this day; whereas the one who remained in yeshivah, married from within the yeshivah walls, and about whom people asked, "How will he ever manage?" - we see that such individuals merit far more and manage far better. Moreover, even the ordinary conversations of a tzaddik hold depth - one can derive insight, learn from them, and absorb guidance; these too are in the category of leaves, and they do not wither either.
The Seventh Virtue: "And whatever he does shall prosper"
Whatever this tree produces will prosper: whatever comes forth from it, and whatever you sow or plant from that tree, will flourish. His children too will be successful, as it is written: "His seed shall be mighty on earth, the generation of the upright shall be blessed" - this is the meaning of "and whatever he does shall prosper."
The Wicked - Like Chaff Detached from the Grain
לֹא כֵן הָרְשָׁעִים כִּי אִם כַּמֹּץ אֲשֶׁר תִּדְּפֶנּוּ רוּחַ׃ - Not so the wicked, but they are like chaff driven by the wind.
After detailing the righteous person's fortune, Scripture says: Observe the wicked person, and everything about him is the exact reverse. Not only do they lack the happiness and success of the tzaddik - "Not so the wicked" - but they are the complete antithesis: they are like chaff. And what is chaff? The husk of the grain, of the wheat. One can speak of chaff that still encloses the grain, or empty chaff that contains no grain inside. The verse refers to chaff empty of grain - "driven by the wind" - for when the grain remains within, the wind cannot blow it away.
This was the method of winnowing: after threshing, during which they would run over the grain with a sharp, toothed threshing sledge - a very heavy weighted board set with teeth and drawn by an ox, which rubbed the wheat against the threshing floor to loosen the hard husk - they needed to separate the husk from the mixture. They would take a winnowing shovel, a wide wooden fork, and toss the entire mixture up into the wind; the chaff, being lightweight, would blow away, while the heavy grain fell straight back down. Thus, "like chaff driven by the wind" describes chaff detached from the grain, for the wheat itself is heavy and cannot be swept away by the wind.
From this emerges a profound insight: the common multitude may indeed be like chaff, but they can attach themselves to the tzaddik, clinging to the grain - and then they become chaff that the wind does not drive away. A person may himself be mere chaff, but he shelters the righteous, remains linked and bound to him, cleaves to those who serve Hashem, and supports and sustains Torah scholars. He remains chaff, yet he is attached to the kernel of wheat. The wicked, however, have no connection whatsoever; therefore, "the wind drives it away" - the wind blows and sweeps them far off. Furthermore, in the parable: just as winnowing the chaff by the wind is meant to cleanse the grain of waste, so too the removal of the wicked serves to cleanse the righteous - ensuring they do not mingle with them or fall under their influence. To prevent the wicked from influencing the tzaddik, the wind drives him away and distances him, preventing any harmful effect.
The Wicked and Sinners in Judgment
עַל כֵּן לֹא יָקֻמוּ רְשָׁעִים בַּמִּשְׁפָּט וְחַטָּאִים בַּעֲדַת צַדִּיקִים׃ - Therefore the wicked shall not stand in judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.
"Therefore" (al ken) here means: to this end, so that they will not rise in the congregation of the righteous, so that they will not mingle with the assembly of the tzaddikim. And the wicked - on their own merit, will not stand in judgment: the moment they stand for judgment, they are condemned; they are not vindicated at all.
The sinners (chata'im), as we explained, are those drawn after the desires of their hearts. Their level is less severe than that of the wicked, for they do not act out of malice but are led astray by lust. Therefore, when judged on their own, they might have some ground to stand on: perhaps a shred of merit could be found, some claim or excuse, along the lines of "Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me." But notice the wording: "nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous" - you certainly cannot be counted among the assembly of the righteous. For when they are judged in comparison to the tzaddikim, they will undoubtedly be found guilty. What will you claim, that your desires overwhelmed you? Was the tzaddik born without desires? Was Yosef born without desires? Yet he overcame them anyway. That is what condemns these sinners. Thus: the wicked do not stand in judgment from the very outset, while the sinners fall not necessarily on their own, but when compared to the righteous, showing how far they strayed, and by this standard they are judged.
"For the Lord knows the way of the righteous" - Knowing is Connecting
כִּי יוֹדֵעַ יְהֹוָה דֶּרֶךְ צַדִּיקִים וְדֶרֶךְ רְשָׁעִים תֹּאבֵד׃ - For the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.
What does it mean that "the Lord knows"? We have explained more than once that knowledge denotes connection: "And Adam knew Eve his wife" denotes connection; "For I know him, that he will command his children..." means I am connected with Avraham. The Malbim defines this as the cleaving of the intellect to the intelligible. This concept of knowledge and connection applies strictly to spiritual matters; one does not connect to the Holy One, blessed be He, through physicality, but through spirituality. And since the Holy One, blessed be He, His mitzvot, and His Torah are spiritual realities, one can connect to Him through spiritual paths.
"The Lord knows the way of the righteous" - "way" signifies progression, that the tzaddik advances on the path toward perfection, along the highway ascending to the House of God. The Holy One, blessed be He, connects Himself to the way of the righteous, guiding them toward love of Him, awe of Him, and clinging to Him. This bond between the Holy One and the way of the righteous remains joined for eternity. But the way of the wicked leads to oblivion, to utter ruin; they do not connect through the knowledge of God, and therefore their way will perish.
And this is what we have noted repeatedly: the wicked person has no true existence. What is seen in this world is merely a phantom existence. When are truth and true reality revealed? When a person departs from this world; then it is seen how much existence he actually has. Then it becomes apparent that his soul is completely severed from the Throne of Glory, devoid of any tie to spirituality. Thus, one who connects to spirituality is bound to the Holy One forever, while one who detaches from spirituality is disconnected and his soul is cut off for eternity. This is the meaning of "but the way of the wicked will perish": it contains no knowledge of God, no connection to the Holy One, blessed be He.
In summary:
The verse "He shall be like a tree replanted" encompasses seven virtues of the tzaddik: he is a tree and not grass - enduring as an individual entity and not merely as a species; he is replanted (shatul) rather than merely planted (natu'a) - possessing both this world and the World to Come; he is situated beside streams of water - all his conduct derives from the Torah, suffering no dryness and leaving no question unanswered; he yields his distinct fruit, holy fruit produced through the Torah; he gives it in its season, at the time reward is bestowed, rather than chasing premature pleasures; his leaf does not wither - even his material affairs fall into place, and even his everyday conversation imparts instruction; and whatever he does prospers - including his descendants and all that emerges from him. By contrast, the wicked is like chaff detached from the grain, driven away by the wind to cleanse the crop; he cannot stand in judgment, nor do the sinners stand in the congregation of the righteous. And the fundamental difference is this: the tzaddik is a tree rooted Above, with his top and his roots in the heavens, which is why "the Lord knows the way of the righteous" - an eternal connection; whereas the wicked is planted upside down, his focus rooted in worldliness, and therefore "the way of the wicked will perish."