Chapter 72 is King David's prayer for his son Solomon - and for the entire Davidic dynasty until King Mashiach. The Radak, as is his way, explains these matters both regarding the days of Solomon himself and regarding the Messianic era. The Malbim explains the righteous king's system of governance: how justice and judgment become permanent within the nation, and how the fear of Hashem is ingrained in the hearts of the people. Let us examine the verses in order.
יִשְׂאוּ הָרִים שָׁלוֹם לָעָם וּגְבָעוֹת בִּצְדָקָה׃ - The mountains shall bear peace for the people, and the hills, through righteousness.
The Radak explains that this is allegorical: the mountains are the kings of the nations. In the days of King Mashiach, the kings will bear peace for the Jewish people. Today, reality is the opposite - warmongering. Even those who do not wage open war against us find it convenient that the Palestinians, Hezbollah, and all the rest fight against us. How do we know this? Because they constantly legislate laws that tie our hands so that we can be struck. It is not "politically correct" to attack us without cause, but they find ways to express their hatred: when we respond, they sue us in the court in The Hague, restrict our rights, and so forth, all so that we will be struck without the ability to react. But in the future to come - "the mountains," the kings, "shall bear peace for the people," for the people of Israel. And so it was in the days of Solomon: everyone came to make peace with him, everyone brought him tribute, and people came from the ends of the earth to hear his wisdom. So it will be in the Messianic era: the kings will treat the Jewish people with righteousness and integrity.
יָדִין עַמְּךָ בְצֶדֶק וַעֲנִיֶּיךָ בְמִשְׁפָּט׃ - May he judge Your people with righteousness, and Your afflicted ones with justice.
Since "he will judge Your people with righteousness," there will be abundance in the world, as it says, "If you walk in My statutes... then I will give your rains in their season." And then "the mountains shall bear peace for the people" - the mountains, as it were, will provide us with sustenance and yield crops. The Midrash asks: Do mountains bear peace? Rather, when fruit is scarce, strife comes to the world: a person enters his neighbor's vineyard, his neighbor finds him and says to him, "What are you doing in my vineyard?" and they quarrel with each other. But when fruit is abundant, a generous spirit and peace come to the world, as it says, "You will invite one another under the vine and under the fig tree." It is a general rule: when there is scarcity, there is strife; over every small thing people quarrel and fight, and each one grabs; but when there is enough for everyone, there is no reason to fight. In the future to come, there will be great abundance, the mountains will bear their fruit, and consequently there will be no cause for strife - "the mountains shall bear peace for the people."
For righteousness and justice to endure permanently in the nation, two things are necessary. The first is on the part of the judge - that he judge righteously, and this is "May he judge Your people with righteousness." Everything begins with wicked judges, with a corrupt court; that is where all troubles begin. Once the judge adjudicates righteously, it is guaranteed that there will be justice among the people. The second thing comes from the side of the people: sometimes the poor themselves resort to extortion, as the distress of poverty drives them to rob others. Countering this, it says, "the mountains shall bear peace for the people" - there will be an abundance of grain in the mountains, as the verse says later, "May there be an abundance of grain in the land, upon the mountaintops," and consequently there will be no fear of strife, but rather great abundance.
On the other hand, the Malbim explains, justice is sometimes perverted because there are wicked people who have no fear of Hashem in their hearts. Regarding this it is said, "and the hills, through righteousness" - the hills will bring them peace through righteousness. "Righteousness" here is as we explained: matters between man and the Omnipresent, the quality of a tzaddik. Everyone will be servants of Hashem and God-fearing, and the mountains and hills will give them great abundance, and then there will be no perversion of justice at all, and integrity will prevail both from the king and from the people.
יִשְׁפֹּט עֲנִיֵּי־עָם יוֹשִׁיעַ לִבְנֵי אֶבְיוֹן וִידַכֵּא עוֹשֵׁק׃ - He shall judge the afflicted of the people, he shall save the children of the needy, and crush the oppressor.
First, a grammatical point on the reading: we read "vidayke osek" (with a tzeirei under the shin) and not "oshek" (oppression), because the meteg is under the shin. If the meteg were under the ayin, we would read it "oshek" - a noun, like robbery or theft. The distinction is like the difference between a thief (the agent) and theft (the noun). Here, "osek" refers to the oppressor, and therefore "vidayke osek" means that he will crush the oppressor.
Radak addresses a difficulty: "He shall judge" implies executing judgment - but upon whom? Upon the poor? Generally, judgment must be executed against the wealthy, who use their might to oppress the poor, dominate them, and subjugate them. Radak explains: the verse does not mean he will judge the poor for their actions, but that he will champion their cause and take their justice from the hands of their oppressors. The poor person is wronged by the wealthy, and the king steps in to execute justice on behalf of the poor, saving him from the hand of his oppressor. Similarly, David says, "Judge me, O God, and champion my cause" - not that he should be judged for his deeds, but that the Holy One, blessed be He, should vindicate him against his persecutors. The continuation of the verse proves this: "He shall save the children of the needy" - saving them from those wicked people who abused them.
The Malbim explains that civil justice between people encompasses three areas. The first is monetary litigation: commerce, borrowing and lending. One claims, "You sold to me," and the other claims, "I did not sell"; one says at such-and-such a price, and the other says at a different price; one says, "I lent you," and the other says, "You did not lend me." Regarding this it says, "He shall judge the poor of the people" - he will not only adjudicate the lawsuits of the wealthy, but also the claims of the poor.
Herein lies the practical significance: In the time of Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, there was a dispute that stirred all the great Torah leaders of Europe, with everyone corresponding about it up to Rabbi Akiva Eiger - the controversy of the Slavita printing house, a dispute involving the Romm widow and brothers, which revolved around a fortune. Rabbi Yisrael Salanter remarked with pain: Why is everyone consumed with this? Because it involves a lot of money. But this runs contrary to the Torah's perspective, for the law of a perutah is like the law of a hundred maneh. Even when one sues his fellow over ten shekels, halachic deliberations should take place and letters should fly between the great Torah scholars. What is the difference? One faces Gehinnom for a perutah just as for a hundred! In our eyes, small change is brushed aside, but under Torah law, that is simply not so.
According to the Malbim, then, "He shall judge the poor of the people" does not only mean rescuing the poor from the hands of the wealthy; it also means adjudicating between poor people disputing among themselves. Two paupers arguing over an onion, over a coin - the king will not view this as a trivial matter unworthy of his attention. Rather, the law of a perutah is like the law of a hundred, and he will judge between one poor person and another. The second aspect is "He shall save the children of the needy": the children of the destitute have nothing to eat, and he will provide them with food and sustenance, saving them. The third aspect is "and he will crush the oppressor": executing justice against robbers and plunderers, punishing the oppressors.
The Malbim adds: these three functions stem from three character traits. The first, adjudicating commerce and monetary disputes, stems from the love of justice and equity. The second, providing the destitute with their sustenance, stems from generosity and compassion - and this is not judgment in the sense of adjudication, but rather aid and benevolence. The third stems from righteous indignation and fortitude to punish evildoers, exacting retribution from those wicked people who oppress those under their power.
יִירָאוּךָ עִם־שָׁמֶשׁ וְלִפְנֵי יָרֵחַ דּוֹר דּוֹרִים׃ - They shall fear You as long as the sun endures, and before the moon, throughout all generations.
Rashi explains: From me, Israel will learn to fear You all the days of the sun. And what does "before the moon" mean? Seemingly, it should have said "and with the moon." Rashi explains: "before the moon" means as long as the moon endures, just as we find in Chazal the phrase "bifnei haBayit" meaning as long as the Temple stood. That is to say, they will learn from me to fear You as long as the sun and moon exist, forever, for all generations.
"They shall fear You" refers to the Holy One, blessed be He, as the Malbim notes: they will fear You and revere You. Radak explains that this was fulfilled in the era of Shlomo, when the Jewish people feared Hashem. It was a golden age for the Jewish nation - a brief period, the days of Shlomo: a time when all the benevolent prophecies were fulfilled in us, when the Jewish people as a whole walked the straight path, and a time of unmatched material abundance, unparalleled before or after. In the language of the holy Zohar: "Sihara be'ashlemuta," the moon in its fullness. The moon represents the attribute of Malchut, and when it is full, it indicates a supreme spiritual harmony and an unhindered flow of divine bounty. Such was the case in the days of Shlomo. For this reason, Chazal state that converts were not accepted in the days of Shlomo - because any convert who came then did so for the material benefits, not out of the love of Hashem.
Radak clarifies that "as long as the sun endures" and "before the moon" mean forever, eternally, as does "throughout all generations": during Shlomo's reign, people would learn to fear You, so that they would fear You all the days, as long as the sun and the moon exist. And if we interpret this as referring to the King Messiah, it is already foretold that in his days, "the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." Then "they shall fear You as long as the sun endures": there will not be a person in the world who does not recognize Hashem's kingship, "and every made thing will know that You made it, and every formed creature will understand that You formed it, and all who have breath in their nostrils will declare..." And those who remain - "And I will bring the third part through the fire, and refine them as silver is refined, and test them as gold is tested" - will already be reverent and wholehearted, and the earth will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem, never to cease.
According to this, there is no exaggeration here. If this refers to the era of Shlomo, one might say it is hyperbole, for we have seen that subsequently they did not maintain that level of fear of Heaven up to our own days. But if it refers to the era of Melech HaMashiach, it is absolute truth; that is truly how the fear of Hashem will be. And what about the yetzer hara? "He will swallow up death forever" - there will be no yetzer hara; "They shall not hurt nor destroy in all My holy mountain." Consequently, there will only be fear of Hashem and cleaving to Hashem, blessed is He, and everyone will carry out His will.
The Malbim explains that "They shall fear You with the sun" clarifies what was stated at the opening of the psalm, "and Your righteousness to the king's son." Righteousness, as explained, pertains to matters between man and God - the aspect of a tzaddik. The king will lead the people in righteousness and in matters between man and God, until the fear of Hashem becomes firmly rooted in their hearts. The parable is the sun and the moon, which function unceasingly: you never wake up one morning to find that the sun has gone on strike. Although it once attempted to do so in the days of Korach, after a few arrows it quickly returned to its work. Just as they never alter their role, so will the Jewish people remain in an unvarying, uninterrupted reality: just as the sun and the moon revere Hashem, so "they shall fear You with the sun and before the moon."
Generally, when the king feared Hashem, most of the people were also God-fearing. There were rare cases where it was said that "he did not know that his generation was not acting appropriately," such as the generation of Yoshiyahu. Yoshiyahu would send inspectors to ensure there was no idolatry, but people had doors with idolatrous figures engraved on the inside. When the inspector arrived and the door was opened, its inner face pressed against the wall; he checked, searched, examined, and found nothing. He wrote his report: there is no idolatry in this house. But when they closed the door again, the idol was once more right before their eyes. Yet that was an exception, for generally the generations reflected the king: a wicked king produced a wicked generation, and a righteous king produced a righteous generation.
Throughout the era of the kings of Israel, for example, all were wicked, and so the entire existence of the Ten Tribes was an unbroken period of wickedness. In contrast, the era of the kings of Judah depended on the king: Yoshiyahu was righteous while his father Amon was wicked; Chizkiyahu was righteous while his son Menasheh was wicked, and so forth. Sometimes righteous, sometimes wicked - everything depended on the king, who guided the people in accordance with his own faith and his service of Hashem.
Here David prays for his son, asking that "Your righteousness" be given "to the king's son," and that he be worthy of having the kingship pass to his descendants after him by being a tzaddik, and that they possess the fear of Hashem like the sun and the moon. The Malbim explains that this is the difference between celestial bodies and man: man is a creature of free will, possessing the ability to do good or evil, and through free will he sometimes veers from the straight path and does wrong. By contrast, regarding the celestial beings it is written, "glad and joyous to perform the will of their Creator" - with them there is no alternation between righteous and wicked, and they have no free will. Of that generation the verse says that they will fear Hashem like the sun and the moon, such that it would never even occur to them to act against Hashem's will. Fear of Hashem will be so deeply ingrained in their hearts that they will have no inclination whatsoever to transgress His will, and this will endure throughout all generations, as long as the heavens remain above the earth.
And if you ask: Where is free will in this? As explained at length (and as explored in teachings on Michtav Me-Eliyahu), man's role in this world is to make himself, in as many areas as possible, into one for whom doing the right thing is a "necessity" - someone who cannot even conceive of doing otherwise. Indeed, in many areas we are already like this: in keeping Shabbos, we are settled; none of us contemplates driving to the beach on Shabbos. We face no such test at all, because through long-standing habit it has become like a necessity for us, and there is no possibility of desecrating Shabbos. If we were equally settled in guarding our speech, there would be no possibility of ever speaking lashon hara. The Chafetz Chaim, for example, attained a level where guarding his tongue was second nature: it was so deeply ingrained in him and in his conduct that it was simply unthinkable for him to speak lashon hara; it was not within his reality.
And for what does one receive reward? For that initial choice. As we learn from Rav Dessler, the reward for that first choice is immense, for every single test one subsequently withstands because the action has become like second nature - one receives reward for that as well. And just as one today is firmly set in laying tefillin, never waking up and thinking, "Maybe not today," so one ought to be in the entirety of one's service of Hashem.
Rav Dessler further explains that the very thought or possibility of doing wrong - even if one ultimately chose good - is an unprecedented desecration of Hashem's name. From the angels' perspective, from the higher spiritual vantage point, the mere contemplation of evil is terrible and grave. An example illustrates this: if a man tells his wife, "I had a difficult temptation today in matters of modesty, and thank God I withstood it and remained faithful" - what will he receive, a medal or a slap? "How could you even entertain the thought? Why were you looking at other women? What were you thinking?" This example is chosen deliberately, for the converse scenario sounds even worse. We understand, then, that having an inclination to sin - even if one overcomes it - is no reason for a prize: How could you even conceive of defying Hashem's word? How could such a thought enter your mind? From a heavenly perspective, that is terrible. But when a person reaches a state where there is no struggle, where the path is as clear to him as the absence of any struggle over whether to put on tefillin today, that is true perfection. He is like the sun and the moon, who are glad and joyous to perform the will of their Creator; he is like Avraham Avinu, with whom even the yetzer hara made peace, because there is no side of him drawn to evil. And just as the sun and the moon do not alter their role, so he does not alter his.
יֵרֵד כְּמָטָר עַל־גֵּז כִּרְבִיבִים זַרְזִיף אָרֶץ׃ - He shall come down like rain upon mown grass, like showers that water the earth.
"Gez" refers to mown grass, from the root of shearing or mowing, as in "after the king's mowings" (Amos 7:1). And "zarzif" - Radak explains - means dripping, what we refer to today as a trickle or drizzle, similar to the phrasing of the Gemara in Yoma 87a: "A trickle of water fell upon his head." The verse means to convey that the king will act for the good of the people, care for them, and bring them salvation: like rain falling upon mown grass and causing it to sprout anew, and like showers whose dripping waters the earth and makes the parched places flourish.
And what is the emphasis here? Sometimes a king leads the people with integrity, but through force and harshness, applying strict judgment to every matter, in the manner of Pharaoh who was severe toward anyone who defied him. He may succeed in keeping the people God-fearing, but the people suffer; there is no pleasantness for them. On the other hand, there is a king who upholds the people in the service of Hashem like "rain falling upon mown grass, like showers watering the earth" - not a torrential downpour that wrecks and shatters, but gentle rain descending upon freshly cut pasture, peaceful showers falling softly.
Here too Radak explains: if these words refer to the era of Shlomo, in his days every man sat under his vine and under his fig tree; there was great wealth, with neither adversary nor evil occurrence. He guided them in the ways of Hashem with tranquility, and the people did not suffer. True, the people paid heavy taxes, and in that sense it was not easy for them - which is why when his son Rechavam succeeded him, they sought to set conditions: "Your father made our yoke heavy; with you we want terms." Yet on the whole it was good for the people, for under Shlomo's rule they enjoyed immense abundance. Hence the praise of a king who leads the people securely and peacefully, rather than through suffering.
And if you wish, Radak notes, this can be interpreted as referring to Melech HaMashiach: in his time there will be peace; he will reign over them gently like rain, and Am Yisrael will be like mown grass that sprouts anew when the rain falls upon it. What we have been throughout exile, like cut grass, will begin to grow afresh when Melech HaMashiach arrives.
Malbim explains: when the heart of the people is receptive to the word of God and open to listen, the word of God penetrates it and influences it for good. This is the parable of the "gez" - mown vegetation; the shearing, as it were, opens its mouth to receive the rain, with the cut surface creating a channel of absorption. In this way, the people will yearn to hear mussar, just as the grass yearns for rain, in the spirit of "My teaching shall drop as rain" - they will yearn for the king's words as one yearns for rain. Even more than that: "like showers watering the earth" - in those places where grass has not yet sprouted, the showers cause growth, and the earth through them yields vegetation and fruit. In the same way, the king will reach even dry, barren souls who have no awakening toward spirituality - those who are not like cut grass open to receive, but people with whom there seems to be no common language at all. He will succeed in reaching them as well, and even the places that have not yet had the understanding to know Hashem will arrive at "They shall fear You with the sun," filled with the fear of God.
We should also mention Chazal's derashah on this verse, which expounds it as referring to the designated times of prayer. "They shall fear You with the sun" - refers to praying at sunrise (vasikin), as soon as the sun begins to shine. "And before the moon, throughout generations" - refers to the time of Minchah, which is before sunset, when one stands and prays Minchah. From the Zohar HaKadosh it is implied that this refers to Arvit, since there are those who maintain that Minchah should be prayed earlier. At any rate, there are various opinions on how to interpret the verse, but according to all these explanations, it refers to the times of prayer.
In these verses, David prays for a monarchy of justice and abundance: "The mountains shall bear peace to the people" - abundance that eliminates strife, alongside upright judgment from both the judge and the populace. "May he judge the poor of the people" - a king who adjudicates even a dispute over a single perutah, for a case of a perutah is treated like a case of a hundred, saving the destitute through compassion and crushing the oppressor through strength. "They shall fear You with the sun" - enduring yirat Shamayim ingrained in the heart, like the sun and the moon which never deviate from their task; and this is man's spiritual task: to make the good so essential that no alternative is conceivable. "He shall descend like rain upon mown grass" - leadership marked by gentleness rather than affliction, causing the cut grass to sprout anew and saturating even the parched ground, until all hearts are receptive to the word of Hashem.