Psalm 104 continues to describe the work of Creation according to the sequence of the days, where whatever was created earlier serves as the cause and preparation for what follows. The firmament, the vapors, and the rain - all these are preparations for what was to be created from the third day onward. Vegetation requires rain, and therefore the Holy One, blessed be He, preceded by creating the firmament and the rain system the day before, so that on the third day it was already possible to "plant" the vegetation. From here on, we will proceed through the verses following the commentary of the Malbim.
מַצְמִיחַ חָצִיר לַבְּהֵמָה וְעֵשֶׂב לַעֲבֹדַת הָאָדָם לְהוֹצִיא לֶחֶם מִן־הָאָרֶץ׃ - He causes grass to sprout for the cattle, and vegetation for man's labor, to bring forth bread from the earth.
On the third day, the Torah states: "Let the earth sprout grass, herb yielding seed, and fruit tree bearing fruit" - three categories. The first is grass (deshe), which is the earth cloaking itself in greenery. Man does not consume this grass, but animals do, and this is "He causes grass to sprout for the cattle." The second is "herb yielding seed," plants sown by human hand, the most significant of which are the five grains from which bread is made. Bread has an important blessing - "HaMotzi lechem min ha'aretz" - and over it alone is the biblical obligation of Birkat HaMazon. Bread is the central staple of human nourishment, to the point that the Torah had to remind us, "for not on bread alone does man live, but on all that comes from the mouth of Hashem," because naturally, bread is the very foundation of human sustenance.
And behold, as the Malbim emphasizes, this vegetation does not become bread immediately. Only after toil and exertion, after one threshes, grinds, kneads, and bakes - the ten melachot involved in producing bread - does one achieve the result. This is the meaning of "and vegetation for man's labor, to bring forth bread from the earth": specifically through man's labor is bread extracted from it. The food for animals requires no labor at all - one leads the animal out to the meadow, puts it out to pasture, and there is more than enough grass. But man, in order to cultivate grain, must plow, sow, and labor, and only through this does he bring forth bread from the earth.
וְיַיִן יְשַׂמַּח לְבַב־אֱנוֹשׁ לְהַצְהִיל פָּנִים מִשָּׁמֶן וְלֶחֶם לְבַב־אֱנוֹשׁ יִסְעָד׃ - And wine that gladdens the heart of man, to make his face shine with oil, and bread that sustains the heart of man.
The third item is wine. The Holy One, blessed be He, created fruit-bearing trees, as well as barren trees, and the most prominent among the fruit trees is the grapevine, from which wine is produced that gladdens the heart of man. The grapevine is the finest of trees, which is why wine accompanies everything we do: Kiddush and Havdalah, a Brit Milah, Kiddushin and Nissu'in, Birkat HaMazon, and the meal for mourners. The olive tree is also esteemed, and its greatest virtue is the oil extracted from it - "to make his face shine with oil."
Wine and oil were created to add pleasure and delight. Bread is the foundation, what is necessary for man's basic existence, whereas wine and oil are luxuries: wine is a noble beverage, and any meal where wine is served is considered distinguished; oil adds flavor to food, and a person anoints his body with it for grooming and pleasure. Yet all of this, the Malbim explains, is of no avail without the foundation. A person cannot live on wine and oil alone. Therefore, the verse concludes, "and bread that sustains the heart of man" - bread is what genuinely supports man's heart, and without it, strong drink becomes bitter to those who drink it and oil cannot make the face shine. First comes essential sustenance, and only afterward does everything else follow as an enhancement upon the primary need.
In his work Ohel Yaakov, the Dubno Maggid explains the verse, "Drink no wine or strong drink, you or your sons with you, when you enter the Tent of Meeting." The commentators ask: Why were wine and strong drink forbidden specifically upon entering the Tent of Meeting? For what reason does the Torah forbid wine when entering the Sanctuary?
Chazal teach in Midrash Shemot Rabbah: There was an accounting office outside Jerusalem. Anyone who wished to balance his financial accounts would go out to that building outside the city - so that he would not calculate in Jerusalem and feel distressed. When a person settles accounts, he feels distress over them, whereas Jerusalem is called "the joy of the whole earth," and it is unfitting for sorrow to exist in such a place. Based on this, says the Maggid, one can understand why wine was forbidden in the Beit HaMikdash: in the Mikdash, joy reigns - "I rejoiced when they said to me, 'Let us go to the House of Hashem'" - whereas wine was created to comfort mourners, "Give strong drink to the perishing, and wine to the bitter of soul."
To what can this be compared? Two wayfarers met on the road. One was a doctor and the other a master pastry chef, skilled in crafting special cakes in a variety of flavors and designs, and both were searching for a town in which to settle and earn a livelihood. The doctor said to the pastry chef: "Two are better than one; let us seek out a town together." The pastry chef replied: "We are not a good match. You are looking for a town of sick people, where you will find a livelihood; whereas in a town of sick people, I will have no livelihood at all. A sick person, who suffers from diabetes and this ailment and that - will he buy cakes? Everything is forbidden to him! I need a city of young, healthy people, while you need a city of the elderly and sick. These are two completely different destinations."
The analogy is clear: Wine has no place in the Mikdash, and the Mikdash is no place for wine. Therefore, "Do not drink wine or strong drink... when you enter the Tent of Meeting." The Beit HaMikdash is intrinsically a place of joy; it is not a gathering of mourners who need to be cheered with wine. Wine is brought to a place devoid of internal joy, where people are wrapped in mourning and sorrow - give them wine to gladden them. But in a place where joy is natural and inherent, wine is unfitting.
And having mentioned the verse "Do not drink wine or strong drink," the author of *Tehillah LeShaul* cites in the name of the commentators: The word *atah* ("you") in the verse has a cantillation mark before it and after it, meaning it can be read as connected either to the beginning of the verse or to its continuation. If we read it as "Wine and strong drink you shall not drink, you" - the meaning is: when you are alone, do not drink wine. A person who sits alone and drinks wine is doing no good; he is drawn after bodily desires and pleasures, and can even succumb to addiction. A story is told of someone who began attending *farbrengens*, where *mashke* is served, and at a certain point began holding private *farbrengens* with the bottle - no Chassidim, no nothing. Wine was not created for this, nor was it meant to drag a person after worldly lusts.
When, then, is it permitted? "You and your sons with you" - when you marry off your children, for at the joy of a wedding we recite kiddush over wine; both *erusin* and *nissu'in* are celebrated over wine. And if one observes closely, all the occasions when we drink wine are hinted at in this very verse: "When you enter the Tent of Meeting" - a *chanukat habayit* (housewarming), which is also a *seudat mitzvah*. "So that you do not die" - a person who recovers from illness, saved from death, and makes a *seudat hoda'ah* (meal of thanksgiving). "An eternal statute throughout your generations" - *chok* (statute), as in the phrase "and inscribed a statute in his flesh" said at a *brit milah*, where wine is also used for the blessing. "To distinguish between the sacred and the profane" - Kiddush and Havdalah, for Kiddush is also a form of separation, sanctifying the entry of Shabbat from the weekday, and on Motza'ei Shabbat separating Shabbat from the coming week. "And between the impure and the pure" - when do we not distinguish between the impure and the pure? On Purim, when one drinks "until he does not know the difference between cursed is Haman and blessed is Mordechai" - unable to distinguish between the pure Mordechai and the defiled Haman, and then too wine is drunk. "And to instruct the Children of Israel in all the statutes" - a *siyum masechet* or *siyum haShas*, when one has finished learning and teaching the laws, where wine is also served at the *siyum* celebration. Thus, the verse alludes to all the *seudot mitzvah*; it is only "you" alone who must not drink, whereas in all these holy settings, "wine gladdens the heart of man."
יִשְׂבְּעוּ עֲצֵי יְהֹוָה אַרְזֵי לְבָנוֹן אֲשֶׁר נָטָע׃ - The trees of Hashem drink their fill, the cedars of Lebanon which He planted.
The Malbim continues: Rain is prepared not only for wheat, vines, and olives, but also for non-fruit-bearing trees - "The trees of Hashem drink their fill," and likewise "the cedars of Lebanon which He planted," the towering cedars planted by Hashem. They, too, serve a vital purpose for the living creatures created after them. Today we know that the world's oxygen is produced by trees; moreover, wood serves mankind's practical needs - in antiquity it was the primary construction material, and to this day in Europe and America many homes are built of timber, with only large buildings constructed from iron and steel. Thus, the trees are essential for human sustenance and shelter.
The word "drink their fill" (*yisbe'u*) connects back to what was said earlier, "from the fruit of Your works the earth is satisfied" - the trees of Hashem are saturated by the rain that the Holy One, blessed be He, brings upon the world. And what is meant by "the trees of Hashem"? It seems like a puzzling expression: are there any trees that are not the trees of Hashem? The Malbim explains that this is like "mighty cedars" (*arzei El*), and the matter is elaborated upon by the Radak. The Radak writes: "The trees of Hashem drink their fill" - they are satisfied by the rain mentioned above, and these refer to the trees of the forest; Scripture attaches the trees to the Name of Hashem because it refers to the lofty, towering trees, as it is the biblical style to associate something immense and magnificent with God. As we have noted several times, when the Torah wishes to describe something exceedingly tall, great, or powerful, it links it to the Divine Name - *harerei El* (mighty mountains), *arzei El* (towering cedars), *shalhevetyah* (a mighty flame), *ma'peleyah* (deep darkness), or *ir gedolah l'Elohim* (an exceedingly great city).
The Radak offers another explanation: these cedars do not owe their sprouting and growth to human cultivation - that is, they grow without human intervention. No one sowed them; their growth is entirely Hashem's planting. Earlier, Scripture mentioned the vegetation cultivated by human hands - wine, oil, wheat - all of which require human labor. Here, by contrast, it speaks of the trees of the forest that no man planted, but rather were planted, as it were, by Hashem Himself, hence "the cedars of Lebanon which He planted." And why does it specifically single out the cedar after already stating "the trees of Hashem"? Because it is the tallest of all forest trees. As is well known, when a specific item is singled out from a general category, it is due to its distinction, and here its distinction lies in the remarkable height of the cedars.
אֲשֶׁר־שָׁם צִפֳּרִים יְקַנֵּנוּ חֲסִידָה בְּרוֹשִׁים בֵּיתָהּ׃ - Where the birds make their nests; as for the stork, cypresses are its home.
Rashi explains "the trees of Hashem" as referring to the Garden of Eden. Even though this is not the literal meaning of the text, based on this approach he also explains the next verse: "Where the birds make their nests" - Israel will dwell there, in the Garden of Eden; for Israel are compared to a dove and a bird, and yekanenu comes from the word for nest (kein tzippor), meaning they will build their nest there.
The Malbim explains according to the peshat: it is the way of birds to nest in tall cedars; whereas the stork tends to dwell in a place where it is sheltered from torrential downpours and rain, which is why its home is in the cypresses, whose branches are broad and protect it from the rain.
הָרִים הַגְּבֹהִים לַיְּעֵלִים סְלָעִים מַחְסֶה לַשְׁפַנִּים׃ - The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the hyraxes.
Rashi explains: Hashem created the high mountains for the wild goats, and the rocks as a refuge - a word denoting shade and hiding, for they shelter beneath the rocks. The Malbim adds: just as Hashem created a place and dwelling for the birds and the stork, in the cedars and cypresses, so He provided a dwelling for land animals - for the wild goats and the hyraxes. The wild goats require a very high place to be safe from predators, which do not reach the high mountains. Anyone who has seen ibexes in Ein Gedi and similar places knows that they sometimes stand in spots where dread falls upon a person just imagining being there, yet the ibex walks there without the slightest fear. Wolves, foxes, and lions cannot reach there, as they fear places where there is a danger of falling. This is the habitat the Holy One, Blessed is He, provided for the wild goats.
The hyraxes, on the other hand, require a refuge because of their weakness. Anyone who has walked in the north near the graves of the tzaddikim, in rocky areas, has seen the rock hyraxes darting about: one moment you see it, and the very next moment it has vanished and cannot be found, and no one is going to lift a boulder to reach it. Precisely because of its weakness, the Holy One, Blessed is He, provided it with such a place where it could find safety.
Thus, says the Malbim, we see wondrous divine providence here: the Holy One, Blessed is He, designated for each creature its place in ultimate goodness and perfection. Why did the verse mention specifically wild goats and hyraxes? Simply because it wished to cite the two extremes: the wild goats in the highest place, upon the high mountains, and the hyraxes in the lowest place, under the rocks; and in between, every animal according to the defense Hashem granted it. It is amazing to see how He gave animals defensive mechanisms: the hedgehog, which suddenly becomes a ball of needles - just try getting close to it; the poison-spitting frog, and the venom-spitting snake; and in that same vein the skunk, which one avoids for other reasons. One can observe a butterfly that is almost invisible, with transparent wings; another butterfly that has markings resembling a pair of eyes, looking intimidating as though a menacing figure stood before you; and a third butterfly sitting on a leaf that cannot be detected at all, its color and shape blending into the leaf like a chameleon. In this manner, the Holy One, Blessed is He, fashioned for each animal its form of defense, protection, and survival, so that even in the face of predators, the species will endure.
עָשָׂה יָרֵחַ לְמוֹעֲדִים שֶׁמֶשׁ יָדַע מְבוֹאוֹ׃ - He made the moon for appointed seasons; the sun knows its setting.
Rashi explains "He made the moon for appointed seasons" - to count times and festivals by it, for we calculate our calendar according to the moon. Muslims go exclusively by the moon, and Christians exclusively by the sun; whereas we combine the solar cycle, which generates the seasons of the year and the 365 days of the solar year, with the lunar cycle, which generates the full month of twelve months. In our calendar, the month always begins when the moon renews itself.
The Radak adds: as it says, "And let them be for signs and for appointed seasons," which is the purpose of the luminaries. Even though the verse mentions "for appointed seasons" regarding the moon and not the sun, the same applies to the sun, for the festivals are also determined according to it - namely, the spring season. Had we followed only the moon, we would be like the Muslims, whose Ramadan wanders across the entire calendar: sometimes in summer, sometimes in winter, sometimes in spring, and sometimes in autumn, having no fixed season. When calculating strictly by the moon, an eleven-day deficit relative to the sun accumulates each year, and after three years there is already a full month's lag, whereas the sun determines the seasons. We cannot allow this, as the Torah states, "Observe the month of spring," and Pesach cannot occur in winter. Therefore, approximately once every three years, seven times in nineteen years, we intercalate the year, creating a thirteen-month year - a kind of reset, so that we remain aligned with the spring. Thus, the sun was also designed for the purpose of the appointed seasons. Furthermore, one can say that the sun determines the appointed times of the day: the end of the time for reading the Shema, the end of the time for morning prayer, the time for Minchah, and the time for Arvit - it, too, determines the times for fulfilling mitzvot. The same is true of the stars, which rule alongside the moon at night.
Rashi cites the teaching of Chazal regarding "the sun knows its setting" - but the moon does not know its setting; sometimes it travels by a long route and sometimes by a short route, whereas the path of the sun is fixed, as the Gemara states in Rosh Hashanah.
The Malbim explains that here the text arrives at the fourth day of Creation: in addition to the sun, whose benefit in terms of light is well known and was already mentioned earlier regarding light, Hashem also made the moon to serve for designated seasons (mo'adim), which is why the verse does not mention the sun here anew. And "the sun knows its setting" - the moon has no light of its own, but receives it from the sun; when the sun sets, the moon becomes visible, and the luminous hemisphere is the one facing the sun, while the side turned away from the sun is dark. Radak notes that this can be understood in two ways: either the sun knows its own setting, or it knows the setting and rising of the moon - that the sun knows the coming and going of the moon, since it is the sun that illuminates it, and through its power we have moonlight at night.
In the sefer Shem MiShmuel, he explains the verse based on the teachings of the Chafetz Chaim on Chumash Bereishis, regarding the verse: "And God said: 'Let there be luminaries in the expanse of the heavens... and let them be for signs and for seasons... and let them be for luminaries in the expanse of the heavens.'" Rashi comments: "'And let them be for signs' - when the luminaries are eclipsed, it is an ill omen for the world; a solar eclipse is an ill omen for the nations, who count by the sun, while a lunar eclipse is an ill omen for the enemies of Israel [a euphemism for Israel], who count by the moon." And on the words "and let them be for luminaries," Rashi emphasizes: "Furthermore, they shall serve to illuminate the world."
The Chafetz Chaim makes a wonderful observation: come and see how far our perspective is from the perspective of the Torah! Had we been asked why a sun is needed, we would have answered: Should we walk in darkness? And why is a moon needed? Because otherwise the night would be pitch black. Moreover, the sun warms the world, and without it the earth would have frozen over long ago, and "the sun has healing in its rays." We would have listed numerous reasons, yet not one of them is the primary reason stated by the Torah. The Torah first declares: "And let them be for signs and for seasons" - a sign from which you draw moral lessons when the luminaries are eclipsed, and seasons by which you set the calendar. Only then, in second place, does it add: "and let them be for luminaries" - furthermore, an additional benefit, that they illuminate. We would have placed illumination at the forefront and called it the primary purpose, but the Torah says: Not at all, that is merely secondary. This teaches you that everything created in the world was created for a spiritual purpose - "Everyone who is called by My name, and whom I have created for My glory, whom I have formed, yes, whom I have made." The ultimate purpose of the luminaries is spiritual: to draw moral lessons from them and to set the festivals by them; physical light is certainly beneficial as well, but it is not the main point.
תָּשֶׁת־חֹשֶׁךְ וִיהִי לָיְלָה בּוֹ־תִרְמֹשׂ כׇּל־חַיְתוֹ־יָעַר׃ - You make darkness and it becomes night, in which every beast of the forest creeps forth.
Radak explains: Now the verse mentions the benefit found in the night, and "making darkness" refers to the setting of the light. It is well known that there is a major dispute as to whether darkness is an actual creation or merely the absence of light, with evidence supporting each side. The simple understanding is that darkness is the absence of light: when there is no light, darkness automatically results, and it is not an entity created in its own right. Granted, there is one instance of darkness about which there is no doubt - the plague of darkness in Egypt, which was a distinct creation that could be touched and had tangible substance; the debate concerns ordinary, everyday darkness. Some sought to deduce from the blessing "He forms light and creates darkness" that darkness is indeed an actual creation, while others argued that the verse speaks according to our human perception, and it is not an independent creation. We do not intend to decide the matter here, but merely to mention the discussion.
And what is the benefit? "In which every beast of the forest creeps forth." The lions and carnivorous beasts of the forest: during the day You did not give them permission to leave their boundaries and prowl the world, for they would harm human beings; and You placed the fear of man upon them - "And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth" - and out of fear of man, wild animals are afraid to venture out by day. What did the Holy One, blessed be He, do? He instilled in their nature to go out at night: "in which every beast of the forest creeps forth" - the animal that creeps and prowls upon the ground; and chayto is written with an extra vav, as in "beno Be'or."
תִּזְרַח הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ יֵאָסֵפוּן וְאֶל־מְעוֹנֹתָם יִרְבָּצוּן׃ - When the sun rises, they gather and lie down in their dens.
By mentioning the benefit of night for predatory beasts, the benefit for man is also made clear: during this time he can rest - "Man goes forth to his work and to his labor until evening," and at night he rests from his toil; domestic animals likewise sleep and rest at night. Radak adds that light and darkness are causes of coming-into-being and deterioration - light is a cause of generation, and darkness a cause of decay. Perhaps his intention also touches upon deeper spiritual dimensions: the aspect of light from Him, blessed be He, is the aspect of divine bounty, while the withholding of illumination from Him, blessed be He, is the aspect of darkness, and darkness is the root of all evil. Whenever "illumination of the countenance" (he'arat panim) is discussed, it is spoken of in terms of light. Chazal made a precise observation regarding the verse: "and to darkness He called Night" - it does not say, "and to darkness God called Night," because the Holy One, blessed be He, does not attach His Name to evil, and darkness represents evil; whereas with light it says, "And God called the light Day," for day represents illumination and benevolence.
From here, there is also a practical lesson: look at our current reality. Ever since electric light was invented, the rhythm of the world has been disrupted - "the night shines like the day, darkness and light are alike." In the past, the schedule was clear: five o'clock, six o'clock, sunset - people went home. A person wanted to eat, lit a candle, and what could one really do by candlelight? He finished his meal and went to sleep, and by four or five in the morning he was already on his feet - for farming, for work, for prayer. The world functioned in a healthy, natural way. Today, a person stays awake until two, three, or four in the morning; if he stays up to study Torah, how fortunate is his lot! But if not, he wastes time on idle matters and vanity, on entertainment and media, and the next day arrives at work drained and arrives at the Torah shiur exhausted. A properly ordered world is one where the night is meant for sleep and the light for man's labor. Today, if you work in high-tech, it is no longer "until evening," but late into the night and the early morning hours, depending on what project needs to be finished. Medical professionals also affirm today that naturally, night was created for sleep: the body registers nighttime as sleep time, which is why cognitive function declines at night, and there are metabolic processes that suffer if a person does not spend the night properly asleep. A person must structure his daily routine in accordance with the reality of light and darkness, for our very bodies were designed according to this rhythm.
And speaking of the benefit of darkness, it has been said in jest: were it not for darkness, how would thieves make a living? Like the man who said: "I remember when you could walk into a grocery store with a single shekel and walk out with a popsicle, an ice cream, and chewing gum." They asked him: "And today?" He replied: "Forget it, today there are cameras everywhere."
הַכְּפִירִים שֹׁאֲגִים לַטָּרֶף וּלְבַקֵּשׁ מֵאֵל אׇכְלָם׃ - The young lions roar for prey, and to seek their food from God.
The Radak explains: Kefirim are young lions in the prime of youth. A kefir is older than a cub (gur) - a cub is very young, truly tiny; a kefir is like an adolescent, while an aryeh is a mature lion. This brings to mind the humorous story of a man who went to a psychologist saying he felt like a lion, begging to be cured. When the doctor asked, "How long have you felt this way?" he replied, "Ever since I was a cub." And "to seek their food from God" - Hashem is the One Who provides food to all flesh, and as it were, they seek it from Him. Even though the lion is currently preying on a deer, Who is the ultimate Prime Cause? Everything comes from Him, blessed be He, and it is as though they are asking Hashem to provide their prey for them.
The Malbim explains: The kefirim, the young lions, do not venture out from their dens by day, but at night they roar for prey; and the other beasts likewise emerge at night to seek their food which Hashem provides for them. A large beast, a mature lion, is capable of preying upon anything; but the kefirim, unable to overpower every kind of prey, require prey suited to their strength. Therefore it says, "and to seek their food from God" - for Hashem provides smaller animals for their nourishment. As for the lion's roar, a lion roars when it has food, as Chazal taught: "A lion roars only over a basket of meat"; and when they have no prey, they go and seek the nourishment that Hashem provides for them. Then, "The sun rises, they gather together and lie down in their dens" - when the sun rises, they assemble and lie down in their dwellings; and the phrase el me'onotam ("to their dens") means inside their dens, similar to the phrase "and into the Ark you shall put the Testimony" (ve'el ha'aron).
יֵצֵא אָדָם לְפׇעֳלוֹ וְלַעֲבֹדָתוֹ עֲדֵי־עָרֶב׃ - Man goes forth to his work, and to his labor until evening.
The Malbim notes: Man goes forth to his work and to his labor until evening without fearing the wild beasts, for "You make darkness and it is night, wherein all the beasts of the forest creep forth" - dangerous beasts do not roam by day, and consequently man can safely go out to his work. Thus, Scripture illustrates how the Holy One, blessed be He, designated a set time for every component of creation so there would be no conflict: the wild beasts rest during the day, as they too feel threatened by man, while man works by day, and the beasts go out to hunt at night. And what is the difference between "his work" (po'alo) and "his labor" (avodato)? Avodah refers to heavy, strenuous work, including all agricultural labor in the field; while po'al encompasses all the general affairs and pursuits in which a person engages.
In these verses, King David continues to describe the order of creation in all its wisdom: On the third day - grass for the cattle, herbage which through man's labor yields bread, the foundation of sustenance, and wine and oil, which add joy and pleasure beyond basic survival; as well as the forest trees and cedars planted by no human hand, providing a dwelling for the birds and the stork, and the high mountains and rocks as a refuge for the wild goats and hyraxes - a marvelous Providence that assigned each living creature its designated habitat in ultimate goodness. On the fourth day - the moon for appointed seasons and the sun knowing its setting, teaching us that the primary purpose of the heavenly luminaries is spiritual, for signs and festivals, while their physical illumination is an additional benefit. Finally, the division of time: the night for the beasts of the forest and for man's rest, and the day for man to go forth to his work and to his labor - everything is deliberate and measured, preventing conflict between creatures, so that every creation receives its sustenance, its dwelling, and its designated time from the Creator, blessed be He.