Psalm 88 is among the most difficult and somber psalms in the Book of Tehillim. Rashi reveals its primary theme right from the heading: "Upon Machalat Le'anot" - regarding the one sick with love and her afflictions, for she is afflicted by the tribulations of exile. That is to say, this is a psalm about the entirety of the Jewish people, who are like a sick person, afflicted by the sufferings of exile. We will first examine the psalm's heading and its meaning according to the commentators, and then delve into the deeper layers of the text as explained by the Malbim.
שִׁיר מִזְמוֹר לִבְנֵי־קֹרַח לַמְנַצֵּחַ עַל־מָחֲלַת לְעַנּוֹת מַשְׂכִּיל לְהֵימָן הָאֶזְרָחִי׃ - A song, a psalm of the sons of Korach, to the conductor, upon Machalat Le'anot, a Maskil of Heiman the Ezrachite.
The Ibn Ezra makes a fine grammatical observation: "Machalat" is a word in the construct state (semichut). If the text meant an illness, it would have said machalah ending with the letter hei. When one says machalat, one expects a continuation: heart disease (machalat lev), a bodily ailment (machalat guf), or something similar. One does not simply say machalat and stop. From here, Ibn Ezra proves what he has noted several times: this song was set to the melody of a liturgical poem beginning with the word machalat. That is, they had well-known melodies, and a new song would be sung to the tune of a familiar one. Just as we find in prayer books, "Recite Shir HaMa'alot to the tune of Hatikvah," or when one is told to sing to the tune of "Hava Nagila." So too here: this song and psalm of the sons of Korach is recited to the melody of "Machalat."
And why does the word appear in the construct state without a subsequent noun? Because the other song had a full name - "Machalat libi" (the sickness of my heart) or "Machalat gufi" (the sickness of my body) - and there was no need to repeat all of its words; mentioning the opening word alone was sufficient to identify the tune. Exactly as one says "to the tune of Hatikvah" without listing the lyrics of the anthem. This, then, is the meaning of "Al Machalat": the psalm was composed to be sung to the melody of a well-known song called "Machalat."
Another possibility: The psalm was composed regarding the illness of the psalmist, and "le'anot" is related to "the sound of affliction" (kol anot) - the psalmist describes his illness and the torment he endures.
The Radak writes that the musical openings of the psalms are unknown to us today, as their purpose pertained to specific melodies, aligning with Ibn Ezra's approach. However, he cites a Midrash: The Holy One, blessed be He, said to David, "Praise Me, and whatever you request of Me, I will forgive you." "A song, a psalm of the sons of Korach, to the conductor" - in what manner? By singing to Hashem, blessed be He, "al machalat" (playing on mechilah, forgiveness). The explanation of the matter: When a person sings to Hashem despite his suffering, he essentially accepts the righteousness of Heaven's judgment upon himself. One who justifies Divine judgment is already worthy of pardon and atonement, for he recognizes the hand of Hashem in his plight and knows to Whom to turn. In contrast, when one fails to acknowledge that it is the hand of Hashem, it falls under the category of "If you walk with Me with happenstance, I will walk with you with wrathful happenstance," thereby arousing even greater wrath. Yet through the very recognition that this is Hashem's doing, he merits forgiveness.
And what is the meaning of "le'anot"? It is as Scripture states, "Remember, Hashem, for David, all his afflictions (onoto)," referring to all the suffering David underwent. These words are expressed in the voice of the exiles, who plead with Hashem to remember all the troubles that have passed over them.
The Radak explains that this psalm was composed by Heiman the Ezrachite, who gave it to the sons of Korach, the levitical singers in the Beit HaMikdash, to sing there. Rashi explains "Maskil": wherever Maskil is mentioned, it indicates that it was delivered through an interpreter (turgeman). The prophet would position an interpreter before him, and when the spirit of prophecy rested upon him, he would speak the prophecy to the interpreter, who would then proclaim it publicly. This is similar to what we find with the Amoraim, where an interpreter stood beside the Sage to expound: the Sage himself would sometimes speak in a soft, low voice, while the interpreter, blessed with a clear voice, would project the words far and wide. Here too, "Maskil" indicates that the words were conveyed through another, who imparted understanding (maskil) and transmitted the prophet's words.
"To Heman the Ezrachite" - Rashi explains that he was one of the musicians who played musical instruments. In the Beis HaMikdash, there were singers whose role was vocal song, and there were those whose role was to play musical instruments, and Heman was among them. The sons of Korach composed the psalm, and it was composed so that Heman would recite it on the platform (duchan). Heman the Ezrachite descended from Zerach son of Yehudah, with distinguished lineage: "And the sons of Zerach: Zimri, and Eitan, and Heman, and Calcol, and Darda" (I Chronicles 2:6), and all five of them were great sages, as is said of Shlomo: "For he was wiser than all men, than Eitan the Ezrachite, and Heman, and Calcol, and Darda, the sons of Machol" (I Kings 5:11). They composed psalms that were established in the Book of Tehillim, and therefore they were called "the sons of Machol."
And what is the connection between "the sons of Machol" and the inclusion of their psalms in Tehillim? Rashi in I Kings chapter 5 explains further: they knew how to compose psalms recited in songful dances. Mecholot means dances, and since the psalms they composed are said while singing and dancing before Hashem, and the Levi'im would recite them upon the duchan, they were called "the sons of Machol."
Ibn Ezra also seeks to identify this Heman, citing Rabbenu Yeshua that Heman was the grandson of Shmuel. And why is he called "the Ezrachite"? Because he was an ezrach (native, permanent resident) among the singers, well established among them, as most of the singers were his sons and grandsons, as recorded in Divrei HaYamim. Others say he was the son of Zerach, and "Ha'Ezrachi" is as if written "HaZarchi" with an added aleph, and his brother was Eitan. Others say that Heman and Eitan were brothers, and their father's name was Ezrach, not Zerach. In any case, Hashem knows. We have presented the possibilities mentioned by the commentators, and from here we turn to understand the inner meaning of the psalm as explained by the Malbim.
The Malbim explains that this psalm was composed about a sick person who has lost hope and cries out in his illness. He notes: observe that throughout this entire psalm there is no consolation, no comforting word; rather, it describes a broken cry and the depth of despair. Therefore it is titled le'annot, related to kol anot (a sound of crying out) - this psalm was established so that a person may cry out through it to Hashem and raise his voice before Him. Whoever seeks to lament and cry out to Hashem has this psalm.
And in this matter there is an allegory and metaphor: the individual sick person crying out is an allegory for the collective body, the body of the Jewish nation. The entire nation is considered a single body, and it resembles a sick person who has reached the gates of death, to the extent that it describes itself - as we will see further on - as someone who is already dead and lying in the grave. This reflects the decline of the kingdom of Israel: the Jewish people are at a low point, like a sick body. Ever since it ceased to function as a sovereign nation, Hashem scattered the Jewish people among many nations, and they subjugated us as slaves and maidservants, which is like a grave, like Sheol, wherein the collective body of the nation is, as it were, buried.
Therefore, when speaking of the Redemption, it is said: "Behold, I will open your graves, My people" (Ezekiel 37:12). "Your graves" also refers to those currently in exile, who are as if buried there and must be brought out of the grave. They may feel comfortable where they are, and if you suggest to one of them to make aliyah to the Land, he might look at you as though you want to harm him, but we know that this is a grave, and this person is buried there. Chazal teach that the land of the nations is ritually impure, and it is forbidden to leave Eretz Yisrael for vacation or the like, except in cases of necessity. A person must know that the holy and fitting place, which possesses life and gives soul to the people upon it, is only here in Eretz Yisrael. At the time of the Redemption, Hashem opens the graves and takes out the exiles, in addition to those who are literally in the grave, of whom the resurrection of the dead speaks. Even the children of exile are as if buried there, yet they still feel the troubles and pains, like a body that feels its pain. Concerning this it says "A Maskil of Heman": these words contain deep understanding (sechel tov) regarding the illness and pains of the nation; "al machalat le'annot" - through which a person may cry out and lament with a loud voice over the troubles passing over us.
יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵי יְשׁוּעָתִי יוֹם־צָעַקְתִּי בַלַּיְלָה נֶגְדֶּךָ׃ - Hashem, God of my salvation, by day I have cried out, at night before You.
The difficulty in the verse is apparent: "By day I have cried out, at night" - how do day and night go together? Rashi explains: by day I cried out, and at night too I stand prepared before You, meaning I still stand before You in prayer. Radak explains that both day and night can be referred to as "day," as it says, "on the day I struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt" (Numbers 3:13), though that took place at night, yet it is called "day" - for "day" is a collective term for twenty-four hours, including the night. Thus the meaning is: on the day in which I cried out at night. Ibn Ezra explains that "day" denotes time in general: at the time when I cried out at night.
And the Malbim offers a wonderful explanation: "Hashem, God of my salvation, the day on which I cried out stands at night before You." For us, past time does not exist in the present; the past is gone. The cry I uttered yesterday does not exist now; it has already passed. But the Holy One, Blessed is He, is not subject to the dominion of time. With Him, past, present, and future do not apply; rather, everything is always "before You," constantly before His eyes.
This is what Rav Dessler brings in response to the famous question: If Hashem knows what a person will do in the future, where is free choice? And if you say that He does not know, Heaven forbid to say such a thing. Yet if He does know, the person will inevitably act in accordance with His knowledge, so where is free will? This question was already addressed at length when studying Sefer Iyov (after chapter 12), as well as in Pirkei Avot on the teaching "All is foreseen, yet permission is granted." Let us state the matter briefly: with the Holy One, blessed be He, there is no yesterday, today, and tomorrow. To Him, everything appears as a single expanse, in a single moment. At that very same moment, He sees Avraham Avinu welcoming guests, and at that same moment He sees the Mashiach arriving. Do not ask how this is possible, for we exist within the framework of time, but the Holy One, blessed be He, is not within the framework of time, and with Him there is no such question at all: past, present, and future are all one.
And the parable Rav Dessler provides: Let us imagine a map displaying from Adam HaRishon until the end of the world, all laid out station by station, and the Holy One, blessed be He, observes it all in a single moment. We, on the other hand, hold a sheet of paper with a hole in it, and the sheet is moved along each time so that the hole sits above a different station, and we can only be over one station at a time. We possess only the moment at any given time; we do not have all of time, and we always see only the present. From this it follows that when one says, "I will desecrate Shabbat in a week, and Hashem knows this in advance" - this is an error, for one assumes that His advance knowledge determines what will be done. This is not so: the Holy One, blessed be He, is, so to speak, already present after your choice. For you, the event has not yet occurred, but for Him, past, present, and future are one and the same; He is present in yesterday, today, and tomorrow, seeing everything as one. He also sees what you will choose, not as foreknowledge of the future, but as present sight.
And if you ask how it is possible for Hashem to see now what has not yet happened - the answer is that we exist in a system governed by time, while the Holy One, blessed be He, exists in a realm beyond time. If you ask who says such a reality exists, even modern scientists acknowledge that there is a state in which time stands still: at the speed of light. In a spacecraft, beyond a certain speed, the astronauts' clocks begin to slow, and the closer they approach the speed of light, the more pronounced this becomes. True, it is impossible for physical objects to literally reach the speed of light, since anything reaching it would turn from mass into energy, but theoretically, at the speed of light, time stands still. Thus, the Holy One, blessed be He, exists in a reality where seeing the future is not a present foreknowledge about the future; rather, at this very moment He is present in the past, present, and future alike.
To return to our subject: man is bound within the framework of time, whereas the Holy One, blessed be He, is not bound by it. Therefore, past, present, and future are always before His eyes, perpetually in the present, as it were. With Him, there is no difference between past and present, to the extent that the Malbim explains: even the day that has passed stands before You in the night that follows it. From my perspective, the past day is gone, but with the Holy One, blessed be He, in the night following that day, the day still stands as an active reality. This is the meaning of "Hashem, God of my salvation, by day I cried out" - when I cry out by day, with You, Master of the Universe, "at night it is before You"; the cry still stands before You as though I am crying out right now.
תָּבוֹא לְפָנֶיךָ תְּפִלָּתִי הַטֵּה אׇזְנְךָ לְרִנָּתִי׃ - May my prayer come before You; incline Your ear to my cry.
Thus, the Psalmist continues: "May my prayer come before You." My prayer is not something uttered for a brief moment and then forgotten; rather, it is as though I stand and cry out continuously, and You behold me. And since what I cried out by day continues to exist before the Holy One, blessed be He, at night as well, "May my prayer come before You." The Malbim explains that prayer is portrayed here as an abstract entity, a spiritual being ascending before Hashem and crying out before Him. And what is prayer? The pouring out of the soul and its cleaving to its Source. Through this, "Incline Your ear to my cry [rinati]" - that You also incline Your ear to my lament over bodily afflictions. That is, by praying to You properly, You will also accept my complaints, laments, and distress. "Rinah" here carries the sense of lamentation, as in "Arise, cry out [roni] in the night at the beginning of the watches," where it refers to weeping and lamentation.
Ibn Ezra explains: "May my prayer come before You" refers to the intention of the heart, while "my cry [rinati]" refers to the words articulated by the tongue. May both what I utter with my tongue and what I intend in my heart come before You. Indeed, both of these are required in prayer: one needs the articulation of the lips and one needs the intention of the heart, and without both, there is no complete prayer. A person who stands for the Shemoneh Esreh and looks at the siddur as if reading a newspaper, lehavdil, has not prayed; if you were to tell him to stand and pray, what he just did was not prayer. Therefore we say, "May my prayer come before You": there is the articulation of the lips, which holds significance, and alongside it there is inner devotion. Radak explains "rinati" as an expression of a cry, citing the verse, "And the cry [harinah] passed through the camp." Where is this stated? When Achav died, after a man drew a bow at random and struck him down, and then the cry passed through the camp - an outcry resounded that the king was dead, "every man to his tent," and they all fled, for "these have no master," just as Michayehu had prophesied. Everyone returned to his own land, and with that, the battle ended.
Since we mentioned the sons of Korach, it is fitting to note a fundamental point. The Torah that existed 974 generations before the creation of the world was not written as it is written before us, in this narrative sequence. In essence, the Torah is comprised of the names of the Creator, blessed be He, and the letters arranged themselves into their current form following the events; had the events been different, they would have arranged themselves in another manner. When Avraham Avinu studied Torah, what did he study? Not "Now Korach, son of Yitzhar, son of Kehat, son of Levi, took," but rather the commandments of the Torah. The 613 mitzvot existed: "Do not murder," "Do not commit adultery," Pesach, procreation, and so forth, as it says, "And I was an artisan with Him."
What actually happened was that Korach arose and rebelled, and Hashem dictated the events to Moshe after they occurred. In Chazal, there is a dispute as to whether Moshe transmitted the Torah scroll by scroll [megillah megillah] or whether he transmitted it complete at the end of the forty years; however, the Torah was certainly not given prior to the events, and one cannot say that Korach read "Now Korach took" and decided to be swallowed up by the earth. At every stage, Hashem dictated to Moshe, and Moshe transmitted it to us, whether scroll by scroll or ultimately at the end of the forty years. But certainly in terms of the written text, it was not inscribed in this manner in advance, and had events unfolded differently, the narrative would have been written differently. This detracts nothing, for the essence lies in the foundational components of the Torah: all the letters of the Torah are the names of the Creator, blessed be He, and they would have combined in another way that encompassed all the hints and all the concepts. What we see in the Torah is merely the outermost layer of the exterior, whereas the inner dimension of the Torah is high above high. Moreover, even what is studied in Kabbalah as the inner dimension of the Torah is merely the inner dimension of this world, whereas the inner dimension of the Torah in the World of Truth is something entirely different, infinitely higher.
From a fundamental perspective, it is accurate to say that all aspects of the existence of the other holy Names exist only after the reality of the Tzimtzum [the primordial contraction], for prior to that, even the Four-Letter Name (Havayah) did not apply, as the Holy One, blessed be He, in His very Essence is without any name. Why? Because a name places something into a defined mold; when I define something with a name, I have delimited it, and it is impossible to define the Holy One, blessed be He. Rather, it is only possible to speak in terms of definitions following the Tzimtzum. We will not delve here into explaining the concept of Tzimtzum, whether it is literal or non-literal, as that subject has been discussed in detail in the lessons on Rav Dessler's Michtav Me-Eliyahu. After the Tzimtzum, the reality came into being wherein it is applicable to speak of Divine Names: a thin ray of light descended from the aspect of the Name Havayah, upon which the Sefirot were clothed, and subsequent to that, all the other Names pertain to the reality of the contracted world. This is especially true of the Name Elokim, which embodies the aspect of Judgment (Din), and Judgment is the restriction of divine bounty, just as Chesed is its expansion.
כִּי־שָׂבְעָה בְרָעוֹת נַפְשִׁי וְחַיַּי לִשְׁאוֹל הִגִּיעוּ׃ - For my soul is sated with troubles, and my life has reached the grave.
Rashi explains that these words refer to Keneset Yisrael, who are sated with troubles. Ibn Ezra explains that "troubles" refers to illnesses, and "my life has reached the grave" is spoken metaphorically. Radak shows that "sated" (save'ah) is not a term reserved exclusively for food, as in "He has sated me with bitterness," "He has drenched me with wormwood," or "sated with disgrace" - anything that has reached its full capacity is called satiation, and the fullness of something is its satiety. Hence: my soul is sated with troubles; I have endured so many troubles of exile that I am already near death, which is the meaning of "and my life has reached the grave" - my life has already arrived at the state of the grave.
The Malbim adds a sharp point: All the days of my life have been filled only with afflictions with which I was sated, until now my life has reached the grave. Of a person who lives long, it is said that he is "sated with days," and of one who dies in comfort, it is said that he is sated with goodness and tranquility. But as for me - I too die sated, yet my satiety is a satiation of troubles and not of good days. Not "and he died old and sated with days," but rather "my soul is sated with troubles."
נֶחְשַׁבְתִּי עִם־יוֹרְדֵי בוֹר הָיִיתִי כְּגֶבֶר אֵין־אֱיָל׃ - I am counted with those who go down to the pit; I have become like a man who has no strength.
"I am counted with those who go down to the pit" - in exile, I am considered like the dead, and "those who go down to the pit" are the deceased descending into the grave. Radak explains: I have no strength to be saved from those who harm me, and I am like those who go down to the pit, who cannot withstand those who injure them. This is "I have become like a man who has no strength (eyal)." "Eyal" signifies strength, as in "my strength (eyaluti), hasten to my aid," meaning my strength; and like "el," which denotes power: "It is within the power of my hand (yesh le'el yadi)" - I have the power; "the mighty of the land (eilei ha'aretz)" - the men of power; "the matter of both shall come before the judges (ha-Elohim)" - the judges, who possess governmental authority. The Name Elohim is likewise derived from strength, meaning the Mighty, the Omnipotent, the Master of all powers. And the meaning of "a man who has no strength": a man who lacks the strength to contend with all who oppress him. In contrast to this, it is said: "And to him who has no might, He increases strength" - to one who has no vigor or strength, the Holy One, blessed be He, grants abundant might.
The Malbim describes the nation here as an unconscious patient who has fainted. When someone faints, people might mistakenly think he has died. In ancient times, there were various methods to check this, not necessarily by pulse: they would place a feather near the nose, and if it moved, they knew breath remained in him, along with other methods. And sometimes mistakes occurred. We do not need to look far: even in our own era, with all the modern tools and equipment to confirm death, one still hears not infrequently of cases where individuals were already taken to the morgue and, feeling cold, asked to be let out. Either there was a misdiagnosis, or the person indeed underwent a state resembling death and his body subsequently revived. Today, in fact, they do not rush to place a body into refrigeration: by law, someone pronounced deceased by a physician is kept for several hours, and only then transferred. We see that determining the moment of death is not simple at all, and certainly was not in their times, when they lacked the equipment we have today.
And this is the meaning of the verse: I am like a person presumed dead because he has fainted, whom they are already lowering into the grave, while he is still alive and conscious. He knows he has merely fainted, yet he cannot move his limbs; he wants to cry out and move his limbs so they will recognize that he is alive. This is "I am counted with those who go down to the pit" - in the eyes of people I am considered fit to be lowered into the pit and they already wish to bury me, yet in truth I was not among those who go down to the pit, but rather "like a man who has no strength." There is life within me; I merely lack the power to move my limbs and prove that I am alive, so that they will not lower me into the pit.
In fact, there have been horrifying stories of this kind. A story became famous in the United States about a young woman who lay in a coma in a medical facility for years, and at a certain point awoke. These are very rare cases. One of the harrowing details she recounted was that she heard her parents speaking with the doctors - debating whether to disconnect her from life support or not, whether to give it another chance, whether there was any point in keeping her in that state. "And I wanted to scream: I am alive, I am here! - but I could not." She heard all the conversations and later recounted them to them. Likewise, there are well-known accounts of near-death experiences: a person who lost his pulse and respiration is rushed to the hospital, and afterward it emerges that he heard everything spoken, all the resuscitation efforts performed on him, and even family members joking with the doctors. Documented testimonies attest to this, including an account mentioned previously of an individual who described a near-death experience and related what he heard when he was no longer here, but outside his body.
Psalm 88 is a psalm of pure outcry, without consolation - "al machalat le'anot": a psalm instituted for a person to lift his voice before Hashem. Its literal sense concerns a sick man in despair over his illness, and its allegory concerns the Jewish nation as a whole, which is like a sick body buried in exile, of whom it is said, "Behold, I will open your graves, My people." We learned from the heading that the singing and praise themselves are a path to forgiveness (mechilah), since one who recognizes that everything is the hand of Hashem is already worthy of atonement; and we learned from the Malbim that Hashem is not subject to the dominion of time, so "by day I cried out, by night before You" - the outcry stands before Him constantly, as though it were uttered right now, and through this, "may my prayer come before You" with devotion of the heart and articulation of the lips alike. And finally, the depiction of the nation's plight: a satiation of troubles, like a man counted among those descending into the pit while life remains within him, lacking only the strength to cry out - leaving him no recourse but to turn to the One Who grants abundant might to him who has no strength.