Introduction: The Psalm of the Great Question
Psalm 73 is a psalm of Asaph. Rashi and all the commentaries explain that it addresses the profound question of the tribulations that befall the righteous and those who serve Hashem, contrasted with the prosperity enjoyed by the wicked. In simple terms: why the righteous suffer while the wicked prosper (tzaddik vera lo, rasha vetov lo). This is the theme of the entire psalm.
מִזְמוֹר לְאָסָף אַךְ טוֹב לְיִשְׂרָאֵל אֱלֹהִים לְבָרֵי לֵבָב׃ - A psalm of Asaph: God is truly good to Israel, to the pure in heart.
First Faith, Only Then Questions
The first verse is an opening declaration made before any questions are raised: even though I am bewildered by the troubles facing the people of Israel, it is clear to me, and I believe with complete faith, that God is only good to Israel. Everything that happens to the Jewish people is ultimately for the good, to grant them merit for life in the World to Come. Only after establishing this foundation can one begin to question.
This introduction is essential. The Radak writes that this psalm addresses the perplexities people experience over the tranquility of the wicked and the suffering of the righteous in this world. Asaph the psalmist speaks either for himself or on behalf of anyone who is bewildered, giving voice to all who confront these troubling dilemmas, just as Job spoke at length on this topic and the prophets addressed it extensively. Yirmiyahu states in chapter 12: "Righteous are You, Hashem, when I contend with You, yet I will speak of judgments with You: why does the way of the wicked prosper?" Notice the approach: first comes "Righteous are You, Hashem", period. I believe in You with complete faith, and only then "when I contend with You" - now the contention begins, now the questions may be raised. Even if my intellect cannot comprehend it, it is clear to me through faith that whatever the Merciful One does is for the best, and everything leads toward ultimate rectification.
We see the same principle in our daily prayer: "There is none like our God, there is none like our Master, there is none like our King, there is none like our Savior", and only afterward, "Who is like our God? Who is like our Master?" Questions are asked only after declaring one's faith. First, "There is none like our God", and only then can one ask "Who?" Unlike Christianity and other religions, Judaism does permit asking questions. Any question that leads you toward the service of Hashem is legitimate. Regarding Yirmiyahu's question, "Why does the way of the wicked prosper?", there is a known mnemonic allusion: Madua Resha'im Tzalecha forms the acronym MERETZ ("energy" or "running forward") - why do we see them succeeding and racing ahead?
"Ach" - Exclusion, Truth, and Certainty
"God is truly good to Israel" - even while they are in exile, God is good to them. The meaning is that the Holy One, Blessed be He, never forgets the good deeds of the Jewish people. If you see them seemingly facing punishment and persecution, and you wonder what became of all their good deeds, the answer is: know that God is truly good to Israel, and that good is preserved for them. Even if they experience hardship in this world, goodness awaits Israel in the World to Come.
And what is the significance of the word ach? The Radak explains: this matter is clear to me, and I know its truth. It is this single certainty that I can state with absolute conviction: that Hashem will yet bestow goodness upon them. He offers another explanation: ach denotes confirmation and affirmation, as in "Surely you are my bone and my flesh" (Bereishit 29:14) and "Surely it is the king of Israel" (I Kings 22:32) - this is the undeniable truth: behold, God is good to Israel. And to whom? "To the pure in heart", to those whose hearts are clean and who serve the Holy One, Blessed be He. Without any doubt, the Holy One bestows goodness upon those who are faithful to Him and serve Him.
The Ibn Ezra explains ach as a term of limitation and exclusion, following the principle that the words achin and rakin denote exclusion. "God is only good to Israel" - the ultimate goodness of the Holy One, Blessed be He, is designated specifically for Israel, and not for the nations of the world who do not recognize Hashem, may He be blessed. Furthermore, even within Israel, as the Radak notes, it is not for everyone indiscriminately, but for "the pure in heart", those who cleave to Him. The Ibn Ezra adds that this refers to the reward of the righteous in the Future to Come: even if you witness circumstances in this world that seem to contradict it, know that their reward will be fully realized in the World to Come.
By Way of Allusion: Twenty-One Days
The holy work Ohev Yisrael suggests by way of allusion: The word Ach (אך) has a numerical value (gematria) of twenty-one, hinting at twenty-one festive days for Israel. If we count them: Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh, the seven days of Pesach, Shavuot, the two days of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and the eight days of Sukkot - we arrive at twenty-one. Granted, there is an apparent difficulty with this calculation, since in a year there are over fifty Shabbatos and twelve Roshei Chodashim; however, all the Shabbatos are counted as a single category of day and all the Roshei Chodashim as one day, whereas the seven days of Pesach, the seven days of Sukkot, and the two days of Rosh Hashanah are counted as individual days.
Another explanation based on the words of Chazal: How many days are there between the seventeenth of Tammuz and Tishah B'Av? Three weeks, which is twenty-one days. "Truly, God is good to Israel" - these days are destined to be transformed for the good. Just as Tishah B'Av, the seventeenth of Tammuz, the Tenth of Tevet, and the Fast of Gedaliah are destined to be transformed into joy and gladness - as explicitly prophesied in Zechariah, that all the fasts will become festive days for the Jewish people - so too the period between them will be like Chol HaMoed. In the time to come, the twenty-one days between the seventeenth of Tammuz and Tishah B'Av will become festive days for Israel.
וַאֲנִי כִּמְעַט נָטָיוּ רַגְלָי כְּאַיִן שֻׁפְּכוּ אֲשֻׁרָי׃ - "As for me, my feet had almost turned aside; my steps were nearly poured out."
My Feet Had Almost Stumbled
Rashi explains: When I reflected and delved deeply into the perplexing questions of why the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper, my feet had almost stumbled. Nataiyu conveys tilting, stumbling, and falling; the issue nearly brought me down. Ashurai refers to steps, and shufechu means poured out to the side, as if I had turned away from the Holy One, blessed be He. The difficulties were so severe that they almost caused my feet to falter and my steps to give way.
Radak explains along the same lines: My feet strayed from faith. When I saw that the wicked enjoyed peace, I almost declared that there is no judgment and no Judge. How can it be that the wicked revel and run wild in the palace of the Holy One, blessed be He, without being held to account? "My steps were nearly poured out" - I was almost cast out of my faith; shufechu is like something poured onto the ground, like someone who stands without support and is about to collapse from his faith.
The Malbim explains: "My feet had almost turned aside" - I began to ponder, investigate, and question the ways of Hashem's providence, and then "my steps were nearly poured out," spilling over from the path of true bliss into heresy. In analyzing the words, he elaborates with a parable: A person carries a vessel, and inside this vessel lies his happiness and well-being. When his feet slip and he falls, the vessel drops and the happiness spills out. This is the meaning of "my steps were nearly poured out": my happiness, which consists of cleaving to Hashem and believing in Him - for one who believes in Hashem is truly the most fortunate - was almost spilled out when I witnessed things that nearly led me to the conclusion, Heaven forbid, that there is no judgment and no Judge.
כִּי קִנֵּאתִי בַּהוֹלְלִים שְׁלוֹם רְשָׁעִים אֶרְאֶה׃ - "For I envied the revelers; I saw the peace of the wicked."
Who Are the Revelers?
What does holelim mean? Rashi explains that it denotes mixture and confusion, as in the verse, "Your wine is mixed (mahul) with water" - meaning diluted and confused. Those who walk in the ways of Hashem follow a straight path grounded in logic and reason, whereas the sinner is termed a holel, one who is mixed up and erratic, lacking any guiding principle. If his heart craves this, he goes here; if his heart craves that, he goes there; each time, the evil inclination chases him off in a different direction.
From this we can also understand why the sinner's punishment is *Kaf HaKela* (the hollow of the sling). It is written that after death, a person remains with all his physical desires; until he undergoes purification in Gehinnom and is cleansed of them, those desires persist within him, yet he no longer possesses a physical body to fulfill them. The soul then rushes frantically from place to place across the world in an attempt to gratify its desires. This is *Kaf HaKela*: being flung from one end of the world to the other in pursuit of desires it can never satisfy. Indeed, this is an exact mirror of the sinner's life in this world, constantly rushing from place to place driven by endless cravings and a relentless pursuit of thrills. This is the holel, the chaotic and confused soul.
Radak explains: The holelim are the wicked, whose way is wild frivolity and folly. They do not care whether they rob, steal, or commit any evil, yet I see them living in peace, without any trouble, their lives running smoothly. I envied them, and this brought me to the point where my feet nearly stumbled, causing me to say: Why must I be so righteous? Why must I exert myself so much? Look, the wicked commit every wrong, yet all is good for them.
The Malbim: Three Evils to Which Man Is Naturally Prone
The Malbim likewise explains that Asaph was troubled by seeing the wicked prosper here in this world. He enumerates three advantages that a person who has it good enjoys over the rest of mankind, for by nature, man is predisposed to three inherent evils. The first stems from the bodily constitution: man's physical makeup is frail and weak, and in the Malbim's words, nonexistence and privation are woven into his very nature.
What does this mean? If a car is left in a parking space for twenty years, it will remain more or less the same, suffering at most a bit of wear and tear. But take a person and leave him for a single day without food, and he is reduced to a broken vessel; two or three days, and his life is in imminent danger. Inherent to human nature are cessation and privation - that is, death; the very mechanism of his decay is built within him. His body is frail and delicate, constantly requiring the replenishment of his vital humors by eating, drinking, and moving his limbs. If a person remains completely immobile, his muscles will atrophy within a short time until he can no longer move. There are elderly individuals who find walking difficult, so a wheelchair is prepared for them, and when advised to make an effort with a walker, they reply, "There is no need; I am fine as I am." One recalls an elderly woman who, after two or three months of bed rest, wished to walk again, but her muscles had already atrophied and she was told it was impossible. Such is man by nature, prone to physical breakdown and decay. Yet in stark contrast, Asaph observes the wicked in robust health, strong and prosperous. The Malbim explains the remaining evils further on, following the sequence of stages Asaph details in the psalm.
The Zohar: "I Envied the Madmen," and the Episode with Achish
The holy Zohar interprets "ki kinati va'holelim" as referring to fools or madmen. This relates to the famous episode where King David said before the Holy One, blessed be He: "Master of the Universe, are there not enough madmen in Your world? Why did You create madness? What purpose does it serve?" In this context, "kinati" does not mean "I envied him and wished to be a madman," but rather that he protested against it - much like a husband who becomes jealous over his wife (mekaneh), which does not mean he is jealous of her, but that he is indignant and perturbed by the matter.
The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: "By your life, a time will come when you will need it." And when David arrived at the court of Achish, king of Gat, Scripture states, "and he feigned madness in their hands" (vayitholel beyadam). The Zohar notes that Scripture does not say "vayishtage'a" (and he acted crazy), but specifically "vayitholel." The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: "Here are the holelim you challenged, and now you have need of them and are even acting just like them!" Scripture recounts that saliva began dripping down his beard and he scratched upon the doors of the gate, leading Achish to exclaim: "Do I lack madmen?" His wife was mad, his daughter was mad - he had practically opened an asylum in his home - and now they brought him another madman: "Have you brought this fellow to act the madman before me?" Notice: Achish calls him a madman (meshuga), yet Scripture specifically uses the word vayitholel, mirroring the grievance of "I was envious of the holelim."
The Alshich: The Afflictions of the Righteous Protect the Generation
The holy Alshich explains that the psalm seeks to clarify why the righteous endure hardship in this world while the wicked prosper. Regarding the suffering of the righteous, we have an answer: their afflictions are meant to shield the generation. As Yeshayahu states in chapter 52, when the tzaddik suffers, it serves as a defense for his generation, and he averts tribulations from them. Through the suffering of the tzaddik, Hashem removes affliction from the entire world. Chazal expressed this as well: "My son Chanina is content with a kav of carobs from one Friday eve to the next," and in the merit of that dire poverty, sustenance is provided for the whole world, for the entire world is nourished only for the sake of Chanina.
We find the same principle with Rebbi (Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi). The Gemara relates that Rebbi suffered severe and excruciating afflictions for thirteen years or more - seventeen years in all - to the extent that his cries from tooth pain could be heard in the neighboring town. When it was announced that Rebbi had recovered, one wept and said: "Woe to travelers on the roads and to the inhabitants of Eretz Yisrael, for throughout all the years of Rebbi's suffering, no woman miscarried and rain was never withheld from the heavens." Thus, Rebbi's suffering served as an umbrella and shield for the entire world.
A story is told of a certain Rebbe during that harrowing period of suicide bombings in Israel, when a terrorist would board a bus and murder fifteen or twenty people in an instant - the Beit Lid bombing, the attacks in Netanya, in Jerusalem, and at the Sbarro restaurant - a time of unspeakable distress and sheer terror. Deeply pained by the tragedy, he offered his soul for the Jewish people. It was said that he took a grave illness upon himself, endured severe suffering, and passed away not long after; and from the time that tzaddik departed, the bombings ceased completely.
A similar account is told regarding the Baba Sali, who related that Heaven had promised him he would live to witness the coming of the Mashiach. As he lay on his deathbed, people asked him about this, and he replied: "It is true, but they asked me from Heaven, 'Do you want a third of the world to perish so that Mashiach may come now?' And I answered them, 'No, I am willing to die as long as a third of the world does not perish.'" In other words, Mashiach cannot arrive when the world is not in a state of rectification. If the world progresses toward rectification naturally, it advances gradually; but if it is brought abruptly, a third of the world must perish, as the verse states, "And I will bring the third part through the fire." And the Baba Sali declared: "I am ready to be an atonement." We see, then, that the tzaddik brings rectification to the world through his suffering and death.
Thus, we have found an answer to the question of why the righteous suffer. Yet regarding the tranquility of the wicked - why the wicked prosper - our minds are not yet at ease, explains the holy Alshich.
Why a "Mizmor" and Not a Lament?
On this, the Alshich notes: "A psalm of Asaph." Seemingly, if one is speaking of the troubles of the righteous, why sing? Lament! But on the contrary, it is a psalm of praise, for "surely God is good to Israel." "Ach" (surely) is an expression of limitation; that is, there is some measure of goodness for Israel in this world, since the passing of the righteous and their afflictions bring a little good upon us in this world. This is "God is good to Israel" - to bestow a little good upon them. For this reason the verse says, "God is good to the pure of heart": "Elokim" represents the attribute of strict justice, as the Holy One, blessed be He, executes judgment upon the pure of heart, the righteous, exacting retribution from them, as it were, so that they die young and endure suffering in order to bring a little good to the Jewish people, that through their suffering they may shield the generation.
Regretting One's Past Deeds
And over what did his heart truly tremble? "As for me, my feet were almost gone" - my feet grew weak from walking in the service of Hashem. "My steps nearly slipped" - all the strides taken in Your mitzvos until now were, as it were, spilled to the ground. Seemingly, what is the connection? Mitzvos were performed until now, so why should they be lost? Rather, says the Alshich, this refers to one who regrets his past deeds (toheh al harishonos). If someone says, "What a pity, I wasted my time observing mitzvos," what is his status? He receives no reward for his earlier deeds. All the mitzvos performed until now can be erased, and how? By regretting having fulfilled mitzvos, the mitzvos are erased. This is "my steps nearly slipped": all those strides taken along the paths of Your mitzvos, which are one's true happiness, were nearly poured out completely, because one began to feel regret and wonder what it was all worth: look, the wicked prosper in this world, so why make the effort to be righteous?
"I Envied the Arrogant": Envying the Insensitive
Here the Alshich introduces a wonderful explanation of "For I envied the arrogant." The holelim are the wicked, and the wicked do not feel. Nothing bothers them, they have no troubling questions, and nothing disturbs them. As the verse says: "He who increases knowledge increases sorrow." When one faces severe problems, financial distress, or any other trouble, a six-year-old child walks around untroubled and sleeps soundly, while the parent tosses and turns in bed. "No mind, no worries," goes the folk saying. The more intellect and awareness a person possesses, the better he understands the plight and difficulty he is in. This is the meaning of: "I envied the arrogant" - I envied the unfeeling hedonist who goes with the flow, feels no pain, has no questions, and sleeps well at night. Whereas I am in anguish; I know that Hashem is a God of knowledge, yet I cannot understand the tranquility of the wicked that I see.
Questions Stemming from Faith, in the Manner of Iyov
It is important to emphasize - as was already discussed at length in Sefer Iyov - that Iyov raised questions in a very sharp and harsh manner, going so far as to say, "If only I could stand in judgment before God," along with other severe expressions. Yet in the end, the Holy One, blessed be He, said to his companions that they had not spoken correctly as His servant Iyov had, for their answers were merely attempts to find fault with him: "Why do you have suffering? Because you are not whole, neither in thought nor in deed." Seemingly, did not Iyov express himself far more harshly? Rather, the Malbim explains there that all of Iyov's expressions were intended to challenge his companions. He wanted answers from them, and therefore posed his questions in sharp and biting language in order to present the difficulties in their full force, to debate them, and to hear their answers.
So too here: when encountering such expressions, one must not think, Heaven forbid, that King David almost cast everything away. With someone who serves as the fourth leg of the Heavenly Chariot, such thoughts are unthinkable. Rather, his meaning is: for me, this is a crisis of faith, a profound difficulty regarding Hashem's governance. Often, what does not pose a difficulty for us is not due to our spiritual stature, but because we do not truly live with the Master of the World. This has been noted several times: the fact that people have no questions and appear to be great believers usually does not stem from great faith, but from not truly living with the Master of the World. Iyov suffered, and what did he do? He cried out to the Holy One, blessed be He: "Master of the World, what do You want from me?" Whereas when an observant Jew suffers, Heaven forbid, where does he cry out first? To the medical clinic. He only turns to the Holy One, blessed be He, after exhausting every natural avenue, and only then suddenly remembers that there is also a Master of the World. When does he remember? When the doctor tells him there is only One who can help. Thus, the fact that we do not cry out to the Master of the World or feel indignation toward Him is not to our credit, but to our discredit; because we do not truly live with Him, we have no grievances against Him.
The Wagon Driver and the Horse
Rav Yaakov Galinsky related a story - a subject on which an entire lecture was once delivered, but to conclude with just the example: There was a wagon driver whose horse dropped dead, shattering his livelihood. He entered the beit midrash where young scholars were sitting and learning, opened the Aron Kodesh, and began crying inside: "Master of the World, why did You kill my horse? What will I do now without the horse? Why did You kill my horse?" Those sitting there began looking at one another with smiles: here is a man who comes to shout at the Master of the World, when in truth everything is from Him, blessed be He, and whatever Hashem does is for man's ultimate good!
Said Rav Galinsky: But who is the whole, authentic person here? The wagon driver. Because the wagon driver knew that if the horse died, there is an address. Go to the synagogue, open the Aron Kodesh, and speak to the Address! With us, by contrast, if the horse died, we would order a veterinary autopsy to find out what happened so that it would not happen to the next horses; we would immediately turn to the natural course of action. Why? Because we do not live with the Master of the World, and therefore we have no grievances against Him either. But Iyov lived with the Master of the World, and this wagon driver too, in his basic, simple, and sincere faith, lived with the Master of the World. Therefore, when he received a blow, he immediately cried: "Master of the World, why?" If we were to receive a blow, we would start looking around to see who struck it, from the right or the left, asking, "What did I do to you?" We do not turn to the Master of the World, and therefore we have no complaints toward Him. This merely reveals our deficiency; it does not indicate that we possess whole and pure faith.
In summary: Chapter 73 opens with a declaration of faith: "Surely God is good to Israel, to the pure in heart," and only from this foundation does Asaph proceed to raise the question of the tranquility of the wicked and the suffering of the righteous. "Ach" teaches certainty, limitation, and the reward stored away in the World to Come for those who cling to Hashem; and by way of remez, it alludes to the twenty-one festive days and the Three Weeks destined to be transformed into days of joy. "As for me, my feet had almost slipped" expresses the danger of falling from faith and spilling the vessel of happiness that a person carries with him; and "For I was envious of the boastful" conveys the anguish of watching the confused, who lack any guiding compass, prospering and healthy, sleeping soundly without any questions. The righteous, through their suffering, shield their generation and bring rectification to the world, like Rebbe and the tzaddikim of each generation, while the tranquility of the wicked remains, for now, an open question. And the practical conclusion: questions born of faith are the questions of a person who genuinely lives with the Master of the Universe, and it is a good sign for a person when he has to Whom to turn and to Whom to cry out.