Introduction: Four Verses Requesting the Path
Chapter 119 is entirely built upon the various designations of the Torah and its commandments: chukim (statutes), mishpatim (ordinances), mitzvot (commandments), edot (testimonies), and pikudim (precepts). In the passage before us, King David moves from one category to another: first, he prays concerning the observance of the chukim, the commandments that lack an apparent rationale; next, he speaks of the general commandments; from there to the mishpatim, which are understood through human intellect; and finally, he returns to plead that he merit keeping the chukim specifically out of closeness to Hashem, rather than through abandonment and suffering. Let us follow the order of the verses.
"Achalai Yikonu Derachai" - A Prayer That There Be No Obstacles
אַחֲלַי יִכֹּנוּ דְרָכָי לִשְׁמֹר חֻקֶּיךָ׃ - "O that my ways were established to observe Your statutes!"
All the commentators explain that achalai is related to supplication, like "appeasing the presence of Hashem" (mechaleh pnei Hashem), in the sense of "and Moshe pleaded" (vayechal Moshe). In other words: my plea and request is that my ways be established to keep Your statutes. May my paths be prepared and directed so that I can observe Your decrees, without anything obstructing or distracting me from keeping Hashem's statutes. A person may deeply desire to keep the statutes of Hashem, but he faces obstacles and distractions: the pressures of making a living, domestic concerns, all sorts of obligations and hindrances. For this he pleads: Master of the Universe, keep the path clear for me to keep Your statutes. I will keep Your statutes, but provide me with the opportunity; grant me the circumstances in which I can do so, and protect me from the distractions of the world so that I may find myself free to keep Your statutes.
Why Special Assistance Is Needed Specifically for Chukim
The Malbim explains that here David turns to speak of the chukim. Chukim are commandments whose rationale is not apparent, and they run contrary to human inclination. When something makes logical sense, a person offers no resistance: he understands it, he grasps why it must be done. When do we typically resist something? When we do not understand it. Granted, many times a person does understand, but resists simply because the matter clashes with his desires. As a wise person once remarked: it is nearly impossible to convince an employee why his salary needs to be cut and have him accept it. Everyone else understands it except the employee himself. The arguments are compelling - the factory cannot survive with such salaries - everyone understands, yet he does not. Personal bias blinds our understanding.
Yet even setting personal bias aside, there are matters that are inherently beyond human comprehension, which fall under the category of a chok: the Torah simply commanded us to act this way. Why specifically so? It is a chok. And if the crown of the letter yud is missing, why haven't I fulfilled the mitzvah of tefillin? It is a chok. Many of Hashem's commandments are chukim: the Red Heifer (Parah Adumah), shatnez, and many others. This runs contrary to human inclination, because as human beings we naturally want to understand. It is like our children: you tell a child to do something, and he asks, "But why?" Often it resembles that employee who cannot accept that his salary must be cut - the child is required to do something right now, and he produces every possible argument why not. Yet often, he genuinely wants to understand.
Here lies an educational insight: one should not enter into debates with children. You offer a brief explanation, and expect compliance. If the child continues to argue, offering questions and rebuttals, one does not stoop to debate him and answer every single challenge, lest it reach a point of "I won't do it unless you convince me." That is not chinuch. Ultimately, the child ends up doing whatever he feels like, rather than obeying because you, the parent, instructed him. This applies to a younger age, when the parent can still command; during the teenage years, even if he understands, it is doubtful whether he will comply. All of this stems from the fact that chukim go against human inclination: human nature longs to comprehend what it is doing, and when it cannot understand, the task becomes difficult, and the Yetzer Hara challenges them precisely because their rationale remains unknown.
The Chazon Ish's Parable of the Barrels
The Malbim explains that as long as a person's ways are not completely established in the mitzvot of Hashem and in His paths, he will easily succumb to his evil inclination. This is illustrated by what was recounted in the name of the Chazon Ish: he was asked how it was possible that during the Holocaust some people completely fell away from their faith and observance, while others grew even stronger and attained lofty spiritual heights. Was the Holocaust, then, a strengthening factor or a weakening one?
He answered with a parable of two barrels of water standing side by side, both appearing completely clear. If you come and shake them, stirring them up, whatever was settled at the bottom rises to the surface. In one barrel there was sugar: you taste it and the water is sweet. In the other barrel there was mud: you stirred it, opened it, and you see filth, grime, and foul water. The real question is what was inside the barrel beforehand. If a person's entire approach to Torah and mitzvot was, "Another mitzvah again, praying again, learning Torah again - enough, I have no strength," the Holocaust arrived and dismantled him completely, causing all the mud to surface. But for one whose fundamental approach to the mitzvot was, "If only I could merit it; I want to merit another mitzvah, I want to fulfill Hashem's will even more" - the Holocaust came and shook everything, drawing out what lay deep within, and on the contrary, his spiritual attainments and virtues only multiplied, like those holy martyrs who gave their lives for the sanctification of Hashem's Name.
Thus, one who is not wholehearted with Hashem will easily heed his evil inclination to transgress the chukim (statutes): "Why? What for? Why must we do this? Where is the logic? Who said so? And why specifically in this way?" Therefore, he pleads: Achalai yikonu derachai - may my ways be firmly established so that I may observe the chukim; that is, that my ways be wholehearted with Hashem. If my ways are wholehearted, I will observe the chukim as well. But if my ways are perverted to begin with, and I look for ways to evade every opportunity, every mitzvah, every Torah class, every chance to fulfill Hashem's will - how will I ever come to observe Your statutes? That is the harder part. But once my ways are firmly established, I will surely observe the statutes as well, and it will be easy for me to keep them.
Then I Will Not Be Ashamed - How Can One Fulfill All the Mitzvot?
אָז לֹא־אֵבוֹשׁ בְּהַבִּיטִי אֶל־כָּל־מִצְוֺתֶיךָ׃ - Then I will not be ashamed, when I look at all Your commandments.
The sefer Tehilot Mahari"tz connects the two verses and explains: There are mitzvot that do not apply to every Jew. Some mitzvot apply only to Kohanim, some to women, and some to a king. There are mitzvot that apply only when a person has sinned and must bring a sacrifice to atone, whereas someone who did not sin does not bring one. There is a mitzvah that a person fulfills when divorcing his wife - and one should certainly not rush to perform this mitzvah, which is not an active obligation, yet one who has done so has fulfilled a mitzvah. Thus a person might ask: How can I ever observe the 613 mitzvot? After all, it is impossible for me to fulfill all of them. I cannot simultaneously be a king and a servant, a woman and a man.
To this, the holy Arizal explains that this is why reincarnation (gilgul) was created: for mitzvot that one could not fulfill and was not obligated to perform - not like tefillin, which one is obligated to wear, but like a get (bill of divorce), where one was not required to divorce his wife merely to fulfill this mitzvah - there is a possibility that a person returns through ibur (spiritual impregnation), where his soul is enclothed within someone who is currently fulfilling that mitzvah, thereby sharing the merit of the mitzvah, after which his soul returns to its source. This topic is elaborated upon in the work Mishnat HaGilgulim, and one who wishes may consult it there.
Yet for our purposes, there is another way to fulfill these mitzvot: through the study of Torah. Whoever engages in the study of the law of the burnt-offering is considered as having brought a burnt-offering; whoever engages in the study of the peace-offering is considered as having brought a peace-offering. That is why we recite Eizehu Mekoman Shel Zevachim ("Which is the place of the sacrifices?"), which should be recited every morning; and whoever recites it every morning is considered as having offered all the sacrifices each day, as there is no sacrifice that does not appear in that chapter of Mishnah.
There is also another reason why this specific chapter was chosen. The morning prayer service is composed of Torah - the pesukim we recite regarding the daily tamid offering; Mishnah - Eizehu Mekoman Shel Zevachim; Baraita - the Baraita of Rabbi Yishmael concerning the thirteen hermeneutical principles of the Torah; and Gemara - "Abaye arranged the order of the altar service according to the tradition of Abba Shaul." Thus, an introduction to prayer was instituted containing Torah, Mishnah, Baraita, and Gemara. And why was this particular Mishnah chosen, when any other could have been selected? One reason, as mentioned, is that it includes all types of sacrifices, so reciting it is considered as if one offered them all. Another reason: this is the only chapter in the Mishnah in which there is no dispute - there is no "Rabbi Yishmael says," "Rabbi Meir says," or "Rabbi Yehudah says"; the entire chapter is taught as a single, uniform teaching without dissenting opinions. One might also add: we wish to begin the morning without disputes, with something that is universally agreed upon.
Thus we see that when a person immerses in Torah, it is considered as if he fulfilled the mitzvah: "This is the law of the burnt-offering, of the meal-offering, of the sin-offering, of the guilt-offering, and of the sacrifice of peace-offerings" - neither a burnt-offering nor a meal-offering; he does not need to offer anything, because "this is the Torah," since he studied the Torah. All of this applies when the Beit HaMikdash does not stand; when the Beit HaMikdash stands, studying does not exempt one from bringing the offering, but nowadays, when the Beit HaMikdash does not stand, none of this is required.
According to this, the verse is explained: Achalai - what is my plea? "May my ways be established to observe (lishmor) Your statutes" - and shemirah refers to the study of Mishnah, as Chazal taught: "'And you shall observe' - this refers to Mishnah." That is: may my ways be aligned and prepared at all times so that I can sit in tranquility and engage in Torah study. Then - "I will not be ashamed, when I look at all Your commandments." When I look at all Your mitzvot and see how many I lack, I will not be ashamed, because I immersed in Torah and kept Your statutes, and through this, it is considered as if I had fulfilled each and every mitzvah in actual practice.
Radak: One Who Does Not Observe Ought to Be Ashamed
Radak explains: Anyone who does not observe the mitzvot ought to feel ashamed when contemplating the written commandments. For example, if someone steals, and now he looks into a sefer and sees, "You shall not steal" - he ought to feel ashamed and humiliated. Perhaps Radak was referring to a different era, but in any case, he is stating what ought to occur: a person commits an act, opens a book and sees that it is forbidden - he ought to feel ashamed. But as for me, since I fulfill all that I am able to fulfill, "I will not be ashamed, when I look at all Your commandments."
Malbim: One Who Rejects the Statutes Will Also Feel Ashamed Regarding the Commandments
The Malbim explains that here David shifts to speaking about the mitzvot, most of which have a discernible rationale. If a person rejects the chukim (statutes), meaning he says, "I only accept what I understand," he will be ashamed when he looks at all the mitzvot. After all, even among the mitzvot there are many whose true reasons a person cannot grasp, and he will be shamed when he encounters mitzvot whose reasons he does not understand. But once he accepts the chukim, he also understands the mitzvot he previously avoided because he was unsure of their reasoning, and all the more so will he observe those mitzvot that can be partially understood.
To explain further: even when you understand a mitzvah, have you truly understood it? A person might say, "Ah, now I know why we put on tefillin; now I know why we eat matzah." Anyone who thinks this is completely mistaken. Everything we know is merely the tiny fraction revealed to us, what Hashem wished for us to know, but that does not mean we know everything. The Ben Ish Chai notes that for every reason we have on the level of peshat (the simple meaning), there are a hundred corresponding reasons in sod (the esoteric realm), a hundred reasons on deeper internal dimensions - what spiritual rectifications the mitzvah accomplishes, corresponding to which spiritual worlds it was instituted, what its celestial root is. All these are hidden matters. Therefore, to one who does not observe the chukim, it could be said: "Do you really understand all the mitzvot? Have you truly fathomed the depths of every mitzvah?" But one who observes the chukim, whose reasons are completely concealed and which he has not even begun to comprehend, will certainly observe the mitzvot, where we have at least some measure of understanding. "Then I will not be ashamed" - once I have observed Your statutes, I will certainly fulfill the mitzvot as well, which are easier than the chukim, since they contain some degree of understanding and emotional resonance.
Chanukat HaTorah: "I Will Sin and Repent" and the Episode of Batsheva
In the sefer Chanukat HaTorah - an anthology of teachings from the Rebbe Reb Heshel, which features one or two insights on every parashah, ideas that are exceedingly sweet, concise, incisive, sharp, and sweeter than honey - he explains this verse based on the Gemara in Masechet Yoma: "One who says, 'I will sin and repent, I will sin and repent,' is not given the opportunity to repent." Notice that the Gemara repeats this twice. This implies that if he said "I will sin and repent" only once, he is granted the opportunity to repent; only if he repeats it a second time is he denied that opportunity. He asks: Why should this be? If saying "I will sin and repent" is so reprehensible, he should be denied the opportunity after the very first time!
The Rebbe Reb Heshel offers an innovative explanation: as mentioned, a person must fulfill all 613 mitzvot to bring his soul to completion, and one of the 613 mitzvot is the mitzvah of teshuvah (repentance) - regarding which it is said, "For this commandment is not too wondrous for you," which the Ramban interprets as referring to the mitzvah of teshuvah. But how can a person repent if he has never sinned? He has nothing to repent for! It would follow, ostensibly, that in some sense a person must commit a sin so that he will have something to repent for, thereby fulfilling the 613th mitzvah, the mitzvah of teshuvah. It must be emphasized that many authorities disagree with this line of reasoning: a person should never commit any sin in order to fulfill the mitzvah of teshuvah. Indeed, we have no shortage of opportunities for repentance, thank God, and there is certainly no need to deliberately commit a sin just to merit fulfilling the mitzvah of teshuvah. Nonetheless, this was the premise the Rebbe Reb Heshel suggested.
According to this: one who says "I will sin and repent" once is given the opportunity to repent, because he needs this to complete his soul through the mitzvah of teshuvah. But if he says it twice - why? You have already fulfilled the mitzvah of teshuvah the first time, so why commit another sin? For that, he is not given the opportunity to repent.
Through this, one can also understand the verse, "For there is no righteous man on earth who does good and does not sin" (Kohelet 7:20): it is impossible for a person to be completely righteous, doing only good, without ever sinning, for where then would he fulfill the mitzvah of teshuvah? He would have to commit some transgression in order to fulfill the mitzvah of teshuvah through it. However, all of this applies exclusively to a completely righteous person (tzaddik gamur), about whom it could be said that he committed the transgression for the sake of Heaven, solely to fulfill the mitzvah of teshuvah. But for someone who is not a completely righteous person, why go and commit a sin? You are already far from complete righteousness; was that single sin really the only thing missing from your spiritual completion?
Our Sages taught: "David was not fitting for that episode [of Batsheva], but it occurred only to teach the way of repentance." That is, what transpired in the incident of Batsheva took place so that he would have a sin through which he could repent. Therefore, King David says, "Then I will not be ashamed" - regarding the episode of Batsheva, for I acted in order to teach repentance. And if you ask, did he not have any other sin? To this he responds, "When I look at all Your commandments" - I had fulfilled all the mitzvot, and therefore I needed this one transgression so that through it I could perform teshuvah and demonstrate the path of repentance. One who says "I will sin and repent" a single time is not disqualified, since it was done to fulfill the mitzvah of teshuvah. Had I not observed all Your commandments, I could not have claimed "When I look at all Your commandments," for in that case other mitzvot would have been lacking anyway. But since I fulfilled them all, I have justification regarding the incident of Batsheva, and I will not be ashamed before those who say to me, "Behold, he sinned with Batsheva" - for this was done so that I might fulfill the mitzvah of teshuvah. Truly, "the words of a wise man's mouth are gracious."
"I Will Praise You with Uprightness of Heart" - The Uprightness of Understanding
אוֹדְךָ בְּיֹשֶׁר לְבָב בְּלָמְדִי מִשְׁפְּטֵי צִדְקֶךָ׃ - "I will praise You with uprightness of heart when I learn Your righteous ordinances."
The Radak explains: the statutes and commandments teach me to praise You with uprightness of heart. When I study the mitzvot and see that they are all Your righteous ordinances, that they are imbued with justice and integrity, I praise You with uprightness of heart as I merit to understand and grasp Your righteous judgments.
The Malbim explains that here David shifts to speaking of the mishpatim (civil ordinances), which are intellectually comprehensible matters whose reasons are clear and accessible to human reason. Regarding this category, he says, "I will praise You with uprightness of heart." The term yashar (upright, straight) refers to binah (understanding), and "uprightness of heart" describes someone whose heart's understanding is so expansive that he grasps each matter through his intellect. And what is binah? It is an incisive faculty that cuts through all things, deducing and drawing forth one concept from another.
We have mentioned several times: there is chochmah (wisdom), there is binah (understanding), and there is da'at (knowledge). Wisdom is what we receive from the outside, from the Holy Torah and from prophecy. A person cannot attain wisdom on his own; he must receive it from an external source. But once he has received the wisdom, he can already understand one matter from another and deduce from it regarding similar situations that were not explicitly transmitted to him. This is the power of binah: the power of contemplation, a sharp faculty that penetrates all matters to deduce one thing from another.
As in the example we already mentioned: if you ask a Torah scholar about the halachic status of a microwave, he will tell you that a microwave is not mentioned anywhere in the Torah, nor in the Gemara. If you ask about in vitro fertilization, that too is written nowhere and did not exist in the era of Chazal. But he will tell you: if we investigate the microwave and analyze its components to understand exactly what happens there, and try to compare it to the halachot of cooking and the like, we can draw conclusions as to what the halachah should be. And if we want to understand IVF, there is a precedent in the Gemara of one who conceived in a bath (nit'abrah be'ambati), which serves as the foundation for the entire discussion of IVF and similar procedures. Thus, even though in vitro fertilization did not exist in the time of Chazal, there is an analogous ruling; and through the power of binah, by comparing one case to another and deducing one matter from another, we can understand even hidden halachot, rulings that were not stated explicitly, and technological devices that did not exist in the days of Chazal.
This is "uprightness of heart": the integrity of binah, where the understanding of one's heart is expansive, enabling him to grasp and deduce one thing from another. When his heart is filled with the spirit of understanding, he possesses an upright heart that can understand any situation and infer the correct conclusions from it, hitting the target without missing - an understanding that contemplates, delves deeply, and reaches the true conclusions. And when does this occur? "When I learn Your righteous judgments" - when I study them and perceive their righteousness and integrity.
It is very interesting that he mentions this specifically in the context of mishpatim (civil and rational laws). For it is written in the sacred texts that mishpatim are matters that can be grasped through human intellect. In monetary law, which is part of this category, we see that the Gemara provides logical rationales for everything: why did the Torah obligate liability here, but exempt it there? Why is there a category of an innocuous ox (shor tam) here, whereas in other damages we do not find the distinction between tam and mu'ad (forewarned), such as in damages caused by eating or trampling? And so on endlessly, the Gemara provides rationales for all the rulings of monetary law. It is precisely in monetary law, in mishpatim, that one can perceive how the Torah aligns its laws with human logic - or, more accurately, how the Torah shaped human logic to align with the Torah's laws. Our logic operates according to the very laws established by the Torah. And even in instances where you have a difficulty and something appears illogical to you, it merely means we must sharpen our reasoning further, for true, pure, and authentic logic is the logic of the Torah. Therefore: "I will praise You with uprightness of heart" - when I study Your righteous judgments, they straighten my heart with the binah to deduce one matter from another, and then I vindicate those judgments, understanding them with proper and upright comprehension.
I Will Keep Your Statutes; Do Not Forsake Me Utterly
אֶת־חֻקֶּיךָ אֶשְׁמֹר אַל־תַּעazְבֵנִי עַד־מְאֹד׃ - I will keep Your statutes; do not forsake me utterly.
What is the meaning of "utterly" (ad me'od)? The Radak, as well as the Malbim, explains that ad me'od relates back to "Your statutes": "I will keep Your statutes exceedingly - therefore do not forsake me." For if you interpret it as "do not forsake me exceedingly," it is difficult: "do not forsake me very much" is an awkward phrasing. Therefore, the Radak explains that ad me'od is linked to "I will keep": I will keep Your statutes exceedingly; I deeply desire to keep Your statutes with all my heart and all my strength. Therefore, Master of the Universe, help me as well - for he who comes to purify himself is granted assistance - do not forsake me, help me keep Your statutes.
The Radak cites an additional explanation in the name of his father: I will keep Your statutes, and do not forsake me, but rather help me attain keeping them exceedingly. That is to say, I want to keep Your statutes - to what degree? To the highest possible level. And so: Master of the Universe, do not let go of me until I reach this "exceedingly." The "exceedingly" indeed relates to the statutes - I want to keep Your statutes to the utmost - but "do not forsake me" is placed in between: do not leave me alone, continue to assist me until I reach the maximum potential. Sometimes, when we reach a certain level in an area, we say: "Enough, this is sufficient; let us rest here, let us stop here." To this he says: No, Master of the Universe, do not stop; continue to help me until I reach the very highest level in keeping Your statutes.
From Judgments to Statutes - He Who Commanded Knows What He Said
The Malbim explains: by understanding the portion known as mishpatim - the part that is intellectually comprehensible, interpersonal civil laws - through this, "I will keep Your statutes (chukim)," even though I do not know their reason. How so? When I encounter something I do not understand, my natural inclination is to reject it. But if someone tells me, "The Vilna Gaon gave this explanation," "The Rambam wrote this explanation," or "Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi said this explanation," I immediately say: Wait, let me sit down again; I want to try to understand it after all. When an ordinary person offers an interpretation and I do not understand, I might assume that perhaps the ideas are inaccurate, or perhaps it is my own limited intellect, I do not know. But when I am told that a great sage said it, I investigate further, attributing any lack of understanding to the limitations of the student rather than the teacher, for he is accepted by me as a genius, a righteous person, a profound thinker, and he surely spoke words of truth.
The exact same applies here: when I observed Hashem's judgments (mishpatim), I came to see that Hashem's judgments are just and upright. Afterward, when I hear statutes (chukim), I say: I do not understand the statute, but I know Who decreed it - the very One Who gave the upright judgments. If so, the statute surely possesses logic and profound reason as well. The mishpatim proved to me that the One commanding me in all this possesses ultimate reason and uprightness, and from this I understand that the chukim are also just and purposeful, even if I have not personally merited to fathom His depth. From the wisdom and understanding I find in the mishpatim, I know there is also supreme wisdom and intellect behind the chukim.
What Has Already Been Fulfilled Teaches About What Is Destined to Be Fulfilled
We once cited this concept as an answer to the common question: How can we know that the prophecies recorded in the Torah will be fulfilled, for example, concerning the arrival of Mashiach and the resurrection of the dead? You say that what is written in the Torah can be proven, and what is written in the Prophets can be proven - but how can you prove this, given that it hasn't happened yet?
The answer is: I do not need it to have happened yet. Everything that has unfolded until today is more than enough to prove to me that the One speaking here knows what He is talking about. If someone wrote a book, and eighty percent of its contents consisted of predictions of the future that have already come to pass, leaving twenty percent that speak of the more distant future - is there any room to doubt whether this too will be fulfilled? Look: until now, everything He foretold has materialized. If everything has worked like clockwork up to this day, it is a clear sign that He knows what He is talking about, that He foretells the generations from the beginning, and that He spoke absolute facts.
Anyone who examines everything written in the Torah regarding the Jewish people up to this day can see it: that the Jewish people would enter the Land; that they would rebel against the word of Hashem and be exiled from the Land; that they would wander among the nations - "And among those nations you shall find no ease, nor shall the sole of your foot have rest"; that afterward "Hashem will return your captivity"; that the Land of Israel would remain desolate throughout the entire period the Jewish people are not here; and that when we return - "And you, O mountains of Israel, shall yield your branches and bear your fruit for My people Israel, for they are soon to come," that the Land would begin to blossom and bring life to its desolation. In short, everything that was foretold until now has been fulfilled to the letter. Why, then, would you doubt the remaining twenty percent? Indeed, it is not twenty percent, but barely five percent; there are countless prophecies we have already lived through and witnessed their fulfillment. He has already proven His capability - so what reason could you have to doubt whether this too will come to pass?
This was the mindset of the Israelites in the desert: "Can He provide bread in the desert?" and so forth. With every wonder He showed them, they said: True, He did that, but tell me, can He do this as well? That is a lack of faith. If you have witnessed His capabilities firsthand, have faith and trust that He is fully capable of accomplishing the rest as well.
The Parable of the Wallet and the Small Coins
This is comparable to an impoverished man who entrusted his pouch of money to his host on Erev Shabbat. Throughout the entire Shabbat he was plagued by deep anxieties: Who knows whether he will return my pouch of money or not? On Motza'ei Shabbat, at the earliest appearance of the stars, he approached him and asked: May I have my wallet back? The host replied: Wait a moment, take it easy, let us make Havdalah first. The anxiety that had shadowed him all Shabbat flared up completely: Look, this man is trying to stall me. They made Havdalah. May I have it back? Just a moment, there is Eliyahu HaNavi, there are the songs and zemirot of Motza'ei Shabbat, come sit with us for Se'udah Revi'it. His panic kept mounting. May I have it back? Wait, let us recite Birkat HaMazon. They finished Birkat HaMazon, and the host brought out his pouch: Here, please take it.
The man grabbed it anxiously and began to count: he pulled out the large bills, counting two-hundred, two-hundred; then he pulled out the hundreds and counted; then the coins of five and ten; and finally the small change. The host said to him: Stop, that is enough, don't you think you are exaggerating? The guest gave him an astonished look. The host said to him: Tell me, I didn't steal the two-hundreds from you, I didn't steal the hundreds from you, and I didn't steal the tens from you - and now you are going to count the small coins as well? Do you think I stole your pennies? Really, don't you think you are going too far?
So too with us: if the Master of the Universe tells you - see, I take care of you in everything, would you really think that perhaps He will fail to provide that one small detail? Are you so suspicious of the Master of the Universe? If Hashem has provided you with everything, trust Him regarding those small matters as well, knowing that they too will work out in the end, and trust in those remaining prophecies, knowing that they too will come to pass. The Israelites in the desert suffered from a lack of faith, and with every occurrence they asked: Who says it will happen? But we must be people of faith, and precisely from what we have witnessed, trust that what we have not yet seen will surely come. This is what David says: after I observe the mishpatim of Hashem, "as I learn the laws of Your righteousness" - "I will observe Your chukim," meaning I will keep and fulfill even the decrees that I do not understand, for if I perceive deep wisdom in the mishpatim, there is certainly profound knowledge and intellect in the chukim as well.
Observing the Chukim Without Afflictions
A person can also come to observe Hashem's chukim when he experiences afflictions. We all know that many come to find Godliness through suffering far more than when things are good, for in times of ease the opposite often occurs - "And Yeshurun grew fat and kicked." Therefore, King David pleads: Master of the Universe, I wish to keep Your chukim, but not by means of "forsaking me utterly," not by distancing me so that I feel abandoned, see how many troubles befall me, and begin searching for You. Grant me, Master of the Universe, that I may keep Your decrees without You forsaking me - that I may observe Your chukim while You accompany me, even when things are good for me. This is the truly lofty level: that a person should not seek the Master of the Universe only when life becomes difficult.
The Story of Rav Shalom Schwadron
Rav Shalom Schwadron related a story about a neighbor who lived above him, who was one of the early pioneers and had come from Russia. He constantly engaged in arguments with him: Why did they say this, and why do we need to do that, and why are religious people like this, and why, why, why. One day, Rav Shalom recounted, I was returning home from the synagogue, glanced up, and saw him in the window - and I could not believe my eyes, I nearly fainted: I saw him wearing tefillin! I could not understand what had come over him. Later I ran into him: How are things, how are you? Tell me, is it true what I saw, that you were wearing tefillin? He replied: Yes, and don't ask - I was in the hospital, I had stomach pains, they ran tests, they said there were concerning findings that needed to be ruled out, scans, and so forth.
Rav Shalom Schwadron remarked: This man had been arguing with me for months, and I was sure he had a problem in his head - and suddenly I realized he had a problem in his stomach all along. You think a person doesn't get it, you think he doesn't understand - forget it; a little stomach ache, and a person understands everything. Sometimes a person needs that stomach ache to bring him to keep the mitzvos.
Regarding this, Dovid HaMelech says to the Master of the World: I ask to "keep Your statutes," but without stomach aches - "do not forsake me utterly." Do not abandon me so that I will keep Your statutes; let me keep Your statutes because You accompany me and remain close to me, and not because troubles befall me and only in their wake do I seek out the Master of the World.
In summary:
These four verses build a single progression: "Would that my ways were established" - a plea that the path be paved and free of distractions, and that a person be wholehearted with Hashem, for only in this way can one also withstand the statutes that run counter to the inclinations of the heart. "Then I will not be ashamed when I gaze at all Your commandments" - one who delves into the Torah is considered as if he fulfilled all the mitzvos, and one who accepts the statutes will surely fulfill the commandments that have some rational basis. "I will thank You with uprightness of heart as I learn Your righteous ordinances" - studying the rational laws straightens one's understanding and reveals the righteousness of the Torah. And "I will keep Your statutes; do not forsake me utterly" - having witnessed the uprightness of the rational laws, I trust that the statutes also contain divine wisdom and reason, and my prayer is that I merit to observe them to the highest degree, out of closeness to Hashem and His assistance, rather than through abandonment and suffering.