Psalm 49 revolves entirely around one great question: What is wealth truly worth, and what is the value of the human soul? The Psalmist addresses all inhabitants of the world, teaching that material possessions do not accompany a person, and only the spiritual element of the soul is eternal. In this part, we will examine the verses dealing with the redemption of the soul, the error of those who trust in their wealth, and what remains of a person after death.
אָח לֹא־פָדֹה יִפְדֶּה אִישׁ, לֹא־יִתֵּן לֵאלֹהִים כׇּפְרוֹ׃ - A brother surely cannot redeem a man, nor can he give God his ransom.
The Malbim explains this verse as a rhetorical question: Would a brother truly not redeem his brother? If your brother were about to be put to death, would you not go and spend vast sums of money to redeem him? And even if there were someone so cruel that his money was dearer to him than his brother's life, saying, "No, that is too much money" - the verse immediately continues: "nor can he give God his ransom." Even if you were stingy regarding your brother, when it comes to your own ransom - where the choice is either to die or to pay - would you not give it? You certainly would! A person will surrender all his wealth to save his own life.
From this, the Malbim derives a fundamental principle: Life, the human soul, is more precious than anything. After all, you would surrender all your wealth for the sake of the soul; therefore, it is clear that the essence of a person is not his wealth, but the preservation of his soul. This is the meaning of "Skin for skin, and all that a man has he will give for his life" - the soul is more precious than all material matters, for you would give up everything on its behalf.
Incidentally, when studying Sefer Iyov, we explained "skin for skin": when someone tries to strike a person on the head, he raises his arm to protect himself. What has he accomplished? Now his arm will be struck - but he uses one layer of skin to protect another, preferring his hand to be injured rather than his head or his lungs. Yet when it comes to life itself, "and all that a man has" - he would be willing to have his arm and leg severed, and indeed everything, so long as his life remains. From this, one understands that the spiritual soul is the primary part of a person, not imaginary possessions.
Rashi interprets differently: "A brother surely cannot redeem a man" - a brother cannot redeem his brother with his money. If death has been decreed upon his brother and he wishes to pay to redeem him from death, "and the redemption of their soul is too costly" - the redemption of a soul is beyond any payment, and therefore "and it ceases forever," meaning he ceases to redeem him. This verse is recited during funerals and burials: our brother is now departing to his eternal home, and it is not in our power to redeem him; we cannot pay, as it were, to save him from judgment and from what has been decreed upon him.
The Radak explains similarly: What good is wealth on the day of death, if a man cannot redeem his brother from death? With all your wealth, you cannot give God a ransom to save a soul - all your money is insufficient for this. If so, what is wealth and all its accumulation worth?
וְיֵקַר פִּדְיוֹן נַפְשָׁם, וְחָדַל לְעוֹלָם׃ - And the redemption of their soul is too costly, and it ceases forever.
Rashi cites Menachem that yakar here connotes withholding or prevention, as in "I will make man rarer (hokar) than fine gold" (Yeshayahu 13:12) and "and I will walk with you with contrary hostility (keri)" (Vayikra 26:28). That is to say: the redemption of their soul is withheld; they are prevented from redeeming their brother's soul.
Radak explains yakar as an expression of rarity, as in "And the word of Hashem was rare (yakar) in those days" (Shmuel I 3:1) - meaning that the redemption of their soul never was and never will be found; it is completely impossible to redeem the soul.
The Malbim explains: Come and see how precious and exalted the redemption of the soul is compared to the redemption of the body. A person ought to value the redemption of his soul far more than the redemption of his body. If there is no one in the world who would not want to redeem his brother's body, and all the more so his own body - all the more so should he redeem his soul, which is eternal! If so, "and it ceases forever" - why do people cease from redeeming their souls, chasing after worldly desires, physical indulgence, and earthly matters, showing no concern at all that their soul is descending into destruction and being cut off through the sins they commit?
וִיחִי־עוֹד לָנֶצַח, לֹא יִרְאֶה הַשָּׁחַת׃ - That he should live on forever, and not see the pit.
The Malbim explains: When a person redeems his body, what has he purchased? Fleeting, temporary life. He was sentenced to death; you paid a million dollars and they released him - will he live forever? He is fifty years old, and now he will live until one hundred. You granted him another fifty years, but you did not redeem him for eternity. The redemption of the body is temporary. By contrast, the redemption of the soul is for eternal life: "That he should live on forever, and not see the pit" - he will not see Gehinnom. If so, a person should rightfully give all his wealth and possessions for the redemption of his soul. Why, then, does "it cease forever"? Why does a person stop redeeming his soul, showing no fear of its eternal death?
We have mentioned previously the wonderful advice of the Pele Yoetz for anyone writing a will: If you have five children, do not divide your estate into five parts, but into six - and the sixth part is your own. What will you do with it? After all, in the Heavenly supermarket one cannot buy anything with money tucked into shrouds! Rather, instruct them: "Give my share after my death to yeshivot, to Torah study, to the performance of mitzvot, and to acts of chessed." Does a person not deserve to leave an inheritance for himself, at least equivalent to one of his children? This is precisely what will sustain you; this is "your righteousness shall go before you" (Yeshayahu 58:8); this is what will give you standing Up Above. They will quarrel over the money anyway, spend it, eat, drink, and enjoy themselves - but you, who toiled, labored, accumulated, and lost sleep at night, what will you have gained from it?
This does not mean that one should disinherit his children, for Chazal said, "Do not be among those who transfer an inheritance, even from a wicked son to a good son" (Ketubot 53a) - do not transfer an inheritance even from a bad child to a good child. Give each one what is due to him, but take a portion for yourself like one of the children, and designate it exclusively for Torah study and the observance of mitzvot. That is what will stand by you for eternity - "That he should live on forever, and not see the pit."
Of course, one should not think that designating from one's inheritance exempts a person from giving during his lifetime. Once, a man came to the Chafetz Chaim and asked that the Chafetz Chaim learn for the elevation of his soul after his death. The Chafetz Chaim replied: "I should learn for the elevation of your soul? You study now for the elevation of your soul! Right now you have the ability to learn for your own soul, and that is far more powerful than what can be done after your passing." And when a person gives with warm hands during his lifetime, it is vastly more potent than giving with cold hands after death. Therefore, while a person can give during his life, he certainly should give. And beyond that, divide whatever you leave behind and allocate a proportional share, at least equal to one of the children, for the elevation of your soul.
כִּי יִרְאֶה חֲכָמִים יָמוּתוּ, יַחַד כְּסִיל וָבַעַר יֹאבֵדוּ, וְעָזְבוּ לַאֲחֵרִים חֵילָם׃ - For he sees that wise men die; the fool and the senseless perish alike, and leave their wealth to others.
Rashi explains through this why a person does not bother redeeming his brother: "When he sees that wise men die" - he says to himself, look, death strikes everyone, both the wise and the righteous, and no one escapes it. And he also sees, "together the fool and the boor perish, leaving their wealth to others" - everyone leaves their money behind to others, and therefore he does not bother to redeem his brother.
Radak adds that the wise and the fools alike are destined for death, and a person says to himself: If so, how can I be saved? Yet one must notice the precise wording: regarding the wise it says "shall die," whereas regarding the fools - those who chase this world, conducting themselves with foolishness and boorishness - it says "shall perish," for they have no hope after death, as it says in Mishlei (11:28), "and the hope of the wicked shall perish." And even what they possessed here, their acquisitions and houses - "leaving their wealth to others," they will leave it all behind to others. As the author of Chovos HaLevavos cites, and as the Zohar states, a man leaves everything behind to his wife's next husband. A person toils his entire life, receiving praises and applause - and to whom did you leave everything? To someone else. But the path of the wise does not perish: the wisdom they immersed themselves in is what goes before them at the time of death.
There was a case of a man who left behind wealth, a villa, and property, and afterward it became clear into whose hands it all fell - his nephews, with whom he had been in constant feud all his life. A relative related: You wouldn't believe it, but during the shivah they already came to inquire if a will had been drafted. They did not even wait for the body to cool. And precisely those with whom he had fought his entire life were the ones who inherited him. See how foolish and boorish man is: he leaves his wealth to others, while preparing and preserving nothing for himself.
The Malbim notes with precision: in spiritual matters, there is a fundamental difference between the wise and the fool - the wise "shall die," their souls enduring forever, their death being merely temporary, of the body alone; whereas the fool and the boor "shall perish." But regarding wealth, notice that there is no difference whatsoever: both the wise man and the fool leave their money behind here, for shrouds have no pockets. "Leaving their wealth to others" applies to them all. If so, wouldn't it have been worthwhile to take that wealth for yourself? And how? By turning it into merits, by acquiring Torah and mitzvos with it - then you would not be leaving your wealth behind to others.
קִרְבָּם בָּתֵּימוֹ לְעוֹלָם, מִשְׁכְּנֹתָם לְדוֹר וָדֹר, קָרְאוּ בִשְׁמוֹתָם עֲלֵי אֲדָמוֹת׃ - "Their inward thought is that their houses are forever, their dwelling places to all generations; they have called lands after their own names."
The commentators grappled with the meaning of "kirbam" (their inward thought). Radak cites an explanation that the letters are transposed, so that "kirbam" is read like "kivram" (their grave) - in the manner of letters reversing, as with keves and kesev (sheep), or salmah and simlah (garment) - as if to say: their grave is their eternal home, the grave is their house forever. And this explains "the fool and the boor perish": where will you always be? In the grave, which is "their house forever."
Some explain that the prepositional letter beis is omitted here, as if it said "be-kirbam be-vateimo le'olam" - meaning that inwardly, in their thoughts, they are confident they will dwell in their houses forever: "I am never leaving this house; here I remain forever." Ibn Ezra questions this: these houses are not mentioned in that form in the verse, so how can one insert them? Yet Rashi also interpreted it in this manner: "their inward thought is that their houses are forever" - their intention is to build houses for themselves that will endure forever.
Not only that, but "they have called lands after their own names" - Rashi explains that they name the houses they build after themselves so that they serve as a memorial. "And he called the name of the city after the name of his son, Chanoch"; Antiochus built Antioch, Seleucus built Seleucia. And to this day, one sees engraved on buildings "The So-and-So Residence," with the person believing that this will preserve his memory. But will that truly give you anything? If it were engraved on a yeshivah, one could understand - there is an eternal remembrance in the House of Hashem. But to carve one's name on an ordinary building?
One could witness this absurdity at a zoo, seeing a dedication plaque mounted on the monkey cage: "Donated by Jones from California." One might ironically remark: May this serve for the elevation of his soul, the soul of his wife, and all his relatives, and may it be a shield and protection for them in this world and the Next! How foolish people can be. If someone builds a hospital - even an irreligious person who performed an act of chesed - healing the sick is a noble deed, something truly great. But why donate an exhibit for monkeys? To have a hippopotamus enclosure named after you? That is precisely "they have called lands after their own names" - on a monument, on an exhibit in a zoo; is this how one wishes to be remembered? Does that make any sense?
Radak further explains that the mem of "kirbam" is a pronominal suffix followed by the definite noun, as in "and with them, Heman and Yeduthun, trumpets" and "Behold, I will feed them, even this people." According to this, the meaning of the verse is: they think that within their houses they will remain forever, and that their dwelling places will endure for generation after generation. They are so consumed with chasing wealth that they are confident they will remain forever in the ivory palaces they built, and that their massive, fortified buildings will make a name for them upon the earth. But what remains for them after death? "They have called lands after their own names" - a building named after so-and-so. Is that what remains? Is that a true distinction? Is that the enduring value you left behind?
וְאָדָם בִּיקָר בַּל יָלִין, נִמְשַׁל כַּבְּהֵמוֹת נִדְמוּ׃ - But man, in his honor, shall not lodge overnight; he is likened to the beasts that perish.
Ibn Ezra notes that some say a person's primary honor is his wealth, and it will not lodge with him in death - which aligns with our explanation based on the Malbim. And "yalin" (shall lodge) is used as in "his soul shall lodge in goodness." Man is likened to the beasts in his death, for just as an animal dies, so too man does not remain here forever. However, Ibn Ezra explains "nidmu" not from the root of silence, but from the root of being cut off - "nidmu" means they were cut off, as we find "nidmeinu" in verses where it means destruction or being cut down. Rashi, on the other hand, explained "nidmu" as silence, like "and Aaron was silent" (vayidom), an expression of remaining silent or inanimate.
The Radak discusses: How do we know that "yalin" refers to the grave, when its plain meaning simply denotes sleep? The Radak answers: Indeed, "yalin" denotes sleep, and come and see that sleep appears in the context of death - "And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake," "and they shall sleep a perpetual sleep." Therefore, "bal yalin" means: the honor you acquired here will not sleep with you; it will not lodge with you in your grave in the perpetual sleep.
The Malbim notes the precise difference between "nimshal" (is likened to) and "nidmu" (resemble or become identical to). Seemingly both denote similarity, but resemblance is far greater than a parable: in a parable, one can say that the subject is not entirely identical to the comparison, but "nidmu" implies complete resemblance. This is what the verse is saying: he is likened to beasts - and know that they have become completely identical to them; they are literally like beasts.
זֶה דַרְכָּם כֵּסֶל לָמוֹ, וְאַחֲרֵיהֶם בְּפִיהֶם יִרְצוּ סֶלָה׃ - This is their way, folly is theirs; yet their descendants approve of their words, Selah.
Rashi explains "kesel" as foolishness and folly, and "their descendants with their mouths yirtzu" - those who come after them will speak of them and recount with their mouths what befell the earlier generations; "yirtzu" relates to the presentation of words.
Our Sages expound: This is the way of the wicked, who ultimately perish. And what is "kesel"? They have fat upon their loins (kesalim) - as it says, "upon the loins," referring to the flanks of the body - and the fat covers their kidneys. The Gemara teaches that the kidneys give counsel; when fat covers the kidneys, they become incapacitated and cannot counsel them to repent of their evil. And lest you say it slipped their minds, that perhaps they forgot they are destined to die? To this the verse states, "and their end they recount with their mouth" - they constantly speak of and discuss their final day, yet they do not fear it. They remember full well that they are destined to leave this world, yet this does not move them to change their ways. And why? Because "kesel is theirs" - the fat upon their loins prevents them from thinking rationally and changing their path.
The author of Me'am Lo'ez offers another explanation along the same line: they remember their end, but this remembrance does not bring them to self-improvement; rather, quite the contrary - "let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we shall die." The very knowledge of mortality leads one to say: if so, let us maximize worldly pleasures as much as possible. Thus, remembering the day of death not only fails to bring them closer to the service of Hashem, but actually drives them further into cravings and pleasures.
The Radak explains "this is their way, folly is theirs" - this is the way of the wicked, it is foolishness for them, and they do not do what is fitting. And "their descendants approve of their words" - their children after them will desire their speech, "yirtzu" deriving from desire and favor (ratzon). When children see their parents clinging so tightly to money and wealth, what does this create within them? They too desire that very same path.
We have often spoken about this: some parents make the mistake of talking constantly about money at home, fostering in their children materialism, lust, and an obsession with money - even in a Torah home, even in the home of an avreich. The father may be immersed in Torah and invest nothing in the matters of this world, but every time the child asks for something, he hears, "We don't have money; for that you need money, money, money." And the child grows up with a pull toward money, because at home he learned that with money, everything is attained.
And there is an even worse situation: parents cause their child not to want to become an avrech. "What, don't you know that Abba is an avrech? Don't you know we don't have money? Why are you asking for such things?" - what have you done to him? You have ruined his chinuch. An avrech equals wretched, with no money; if so, he will never want to be an avrech. You have cultivated in him a feeling of misery because his father is an avrech, and will that encourage him to become one? Do not talk about money and do not bring up money at home. Rather, say: what we need, we buy, and if we truly must have it - we will buy it. Do not say, "We have no money"; is the child supposed to examine your bank account? Children should not be involved in their parents' financial affairs. If the child asks for something - if it seems necessary, we will buy it with Hashem's help, and if not, we will not. But do not inject a sense of misery into it, and do not link it to Torah study.
And this is what the Radak says: children who hear their parents constantly talking only about wealth and money, boasting of it and clinging to it with all their might - they too will desire that very same path. In this way, you raise a coarse, materialistic generation whose sole aim and passion is wealth, whose eyes constantly gleam, with dollar signs visible in their pupils. This is what you raised, and this is what you brought into your home. And some explain "befihem" (with their mouth) as "kefihem" (according to them), in the sense of "each man according to his eating" (ish lefi ochlo), "according to his service" (kefi avodato) - meaning, their children after them are just like them, they too speak of and are drawn only after money.
The Malbim explains: once you see that "man does not abide in honor," that a person takes nothing of his material acquisitions with him to the grave - how can it be that "this is their way, their folly" (kesel lamo), that their "folly," meaning their hope, is placed in wealth? For wealth itself proclaims this about him. The monument he built stands and calls out: Where is the one who built me? Did he take me with him? Others have inherited me, and nothing of me remained with him. Do you chase after wealth just so that wealth can proclaim about you that you were likened to the beasts, that you acted in a beast-like manner?
And the Malbim continues: "and after them they approve of their sayings" (ve-achareihem befihem yirtzu) - in their last will and testament, as they lie on their deathbed, they verbally express their desire as to who will inherit them. Could there be any greater folly than this? You yourself see that you take nothing with you, for in the end you must divide everything and carry nothing away - yet you still continued chasing after money all your life.
And there are those even worse: those who are convinced they are never leaving - do not divide anything at all. What is there to divide? The very thought of leaving all his money behind gives him no peace; that thought alone could kill him, and therefore he writes no will whatsoever. This is not referring to a thirty-year-old; it refers to a person of seventy or eighty. Consider a patient whose doctors had given him a limited time to live, who refused to write a will because he was certain he was here to stay and going nowhere. A man whose children were all married and settled, yet he remained deeply immersed in his wealth. A visitor to his villa while he was already ill found him pointing out what still remained to be completed in the construction. One could only think: here is a person who knows his days are numbered; instead of saying, "Leave me be with the foolishness of this villa, I am now working on a different villa" - he is caught up in the details of the building! In his condition, one could say nothing to him, but it drove home how profoundly true are the words of the Zohar: "A person walks in this world and thinks it belongs to him, and that he will remain in it for generations upon generations." The very writing of a will shows that a person knows he is about to leave - so how can he still persist in the pursuit of wealth? And worse still is one who writes no will at all, convinced he will stay here forever. Is there any greater folly than this?
"Selah," explains the Malbim, always signifies the conclusion of the matter. And in Me'am Lo'ez, an additional explanation is cited for "and after them they approve of their sayings": you ask him why he invests so much time in material pursuits, and he replies that it is not for himself at all, but for his children - so that they will be well provided for, so that they will not have to build themselves up from scratch with their bare hands as he did. His entire concern is only for the children.
The Chafetz Chaim once said to a man he met: Why do you invest so much time in work? Sit and learn; set fixed times for Torah study. The man replied: Rebbe, the only reason I work is so that my children will be able to do nothing but learn; I want them to be financially secure, and then, with Hashem's help, they will be righteous and immerse themselves in Torah. But we have said: "and after them they approve of their sayings, Selah" - the child constantly hears his father talking about "money, money," and he too becomes drawn after it, and later he too will say the exact same thing: "You won't believe it, I work all my life only for my children, so that they can immerse themselves in Torah." Said the Chafetz Chaim: I would be very interested to be there at the end of all the generations and see that child for whom whole generations, thousands of generations, worked so that he could learn! He must surely be something very special, that final one at the end. Rather, do not work for anyone else - work as much as you need for your sustenance, and dedicate the rest of your time to Torah. Half a tarpeik for the sustenance of his household, and half a tarpeik for the watchman of the Beit Midrash. Utilize your time, attend another shiur - that is what will remain yours for eternity, that is what will endure forever.
We have learned a great fundamental principle from these verses: a person's soul is more precious than all his wealth, for all that a man has he will give for his soul - and therefore, all the more so is it proper to invest in the redemption of the soul, which is eternal, more than in the redemption of the body, which is only for temporal life. Everyone - the wise and the foolish alike - leaves their wealth behind to others, and the only acquisition that accompanies a person is wisdom, Torah, and mitzvot. Those who build houses and call them by their names upon the earth imagine in their hearts that they will remain here forever, yet all they possess is a name engraved upon a stone. And this is the height of folly: a person writes a will and thereby admits to himself that he is leaving, yet he continues to pursue money and raises a subsequent generation that chases after it as well. The counsel: give with warm hands during your lifetime, dedicate a portion of your estate to Torah and mitzvot, and do not fill your home with talk of money - for only Torah and good deeds are the acquisitions that a person truly takes with him.