Psalm 119 is the longest chapter in Tehillim, arranged in alphabetical acrostic order, with every single verse containing one of the designations for the Torah: Torah (teaching), Edut (testimonies), Pikkudim (precepts), Chukkim (statutes), Mitzvot (commandments), Mishpatim (judgments), Davar (word), and Imrah (utterance). In this lesson, we will continue through the letter Beit, from the verse "Blessed are You, Hashem; teach me Your statutes" through "I will delight in Your statutes." We will see how King David ascends the spiritual ladder: from observing the statute to studying it, from understanding to deeper knowledge, and from dry compliance to sheer delight and joy in Torah.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה לַמְּדֵנִי חֻקֶּיךָ׃ - Blessed are You, Hashem; teach me Your statutes.
Ibn Ezra explains: so that I may thank You and acknowledge that You are blessed, teach me Your statutes. This is the reward I seek. And where do we perceive and learn of Hashem's attributes, His goodness, and the abundance He bestows upon us - the reality of His being the source of blessing? From the study of Hashem's statutes. Therefore: teach me Your statutes, so that I may truly recognize that You are blessed. Radak offers another interpretation: "Blessed are You, Hashem" is an expression of gratitude for the past, for all that You have already taught me, while "teach me Your statutes" is a petition for the future, that You continue to teach me. There are thus two aspects here: thanksgiving for everything until now, and a plea that the Master of the Universe continue to teach us His statutes and commandments going forward.
The Malbim explains that here David turns his focus to the statutes (chukkim). In contrast to his earlier yearning, "My wish is that my ways be established to observe Your statutes," he now declares that his prayer has already been answered: he faithfully observes Hashem's statutes, and for this he blesses and gives thanks. Yet he asks for more: "Teach me Your statutes." Beyond mere observance, I also want to learn. What is the difference? "To observe Your statutes" means keeping them as unreasoned decrees: Hashem so commanded, so we do; it is an inexplicable decree. "Teach me Your statutes," however, means to know and grasp the inner depth of these statutes. Initially, we fulfill all the commandments as decrees, but once we delve into them and contemplate their depth, we merit discovering reasons, insights, and logic within them. At first, my fulfillment was only on the level of "observing Your statutes," but now I ask: grant me the merit also to study and understand the statutes, so that I do not fulfill them merely as a dry decree, but through deep study.
Based on this idea, the Divrei Yoel explains the verse: "He relates His words to Yaakov, His statutes and His judgments to Israel. He did not do so for any other nation; and as for judgments, they did not know them, Halleluyah." On the surface, this verse is puzzling. We possess both statutes - such as the Red Heifer, shatnez, and cross-breeding (kilayim), which fall into the category of divine decrees beyond human intellect - and judgments, which are readily grasped by reason and logic. But as for the phrase, "He did not do so for any other nation" - what do the nations lack? After all, all of their commandments are completely logical: prohibitions against murder, theft, adultery, blasphemy, idolatry, eating the limb of a living animal, and the command to establish courts of law. Everything is rational. If so, the verse should have said, "and as for statutes, they did not know them" - meaning that we possess both statutes and judgments, whereas they have only judgments, while the statutes remain unknown to them.
Rather, explains the Divrei Yoel, the point is profound. The people of Israel study Hashem's statutes, and this is the meaning of "teach me Your statutes": that I may merit understanding the rationale even within the statutes. To study Torah, to derive one matter from another, and to plumb its depths was not given to the gentiles. A gentile receives the command axiomatically: accept it, perform it, and that is all. He has no concept of Torah study, of delving into the depths to understand what Hashem truly desires. It turns out that for us, even statutes are elevated into judgments, because through profound study we come to comprehend them and they become rational to us. This is "His statutes and His judgments to Israel" - for us, the statute itself becomes a judgment. By contrast, for the gentile, because he lacks Torah study, "as for judgments, they did not know them" - everything remains for him strictly on the level of an unexplained decree, for he never attains that intellectual understanding. Therefore David pleads: Master of the Universe, teach me Your statutes, so that I may merit studying these statutes until they, too, become like judgments to me.
בִּשְׂפָתַי סִפַּרְתִּי כֹּל מִשְׁפְּטֵי פִיךָ׃ - With my lips I have recounted all the judgments of Your mouth.
Ibn Ezra connects this verse to the preceding one: You know my custom, that I recount and teach Your judgments to the people of my generation; therefore, teach me Your statutes so that I may continue in my worthy practice. Radak links it to the verse, "In my heart I have treasured Your word," which might have suggested that the teachings remained confined to the heart alone. To counter this, David says: I did not refrain from articulating them with my mouth, both to accustom myself to them and to teach them to others. When a person studies Torah, he is obligated to teach it to others as well; I was not satisfied with merely treasuring it in my heart, but recounted these judgments to others as well.
In Radak's wording here lies an instructive lesson for Maggidei Shiur. A lecturer often feels he comes solely to teach others, whereas King David says first, "in order to habituate myself to them," and only then, "and to teach them to others." A man once came to the Chafetz Chaim and said: "Rabbeinu, I feel there is no point in my delivering drashot; I speak and speak, and no one is influenced." The Chafetz Chaim replied: "Know that even if only one Jew is influenced, it is an enormous and great accomplishment, even if that one Jew is you." That is to say, even if you are the only one who emerges strengthened from the words of inspiration you delivered, you have already accomplished a great deal. And as they say in Chassidut regarding the verse, "I had faith, for I spoke": when a person speaks words of faith, even if he has not yet personally attained that level, the very act of speaking reinforces his own faith.
One can also find an additional allusion here: "to habituate myself to them and to teach them to others." A person should never teach something to his fellow while acting to the contrary, for otherwise they will say to him: "You instruct me to do this, while you yourself do the opposite?" Therefore, he must first accustom himself and live accordingly, and only afterward teach others. Yet, if everyone were required to fulfill every single concept they speak about, only a rare few would ever be qualified to deliver a shiur. Who can claim that he has mastered every spiritual level he discusses? I read about Rav Dessler that regarding any topic on which he gave a shmuess, he would make an effort to work on it within himself, and he would rehearse the talk before his wife beforehand. Once he shared with her what he intended to speak about, and she asked him: "Are you truly holding at that level?" That week he did not deliver the talk on that subject, feeling that she was right: evidently, I have not yet attained that level.
If so, why do people speak nowadays anyway? To this, the Maggid of Dubno offered a parable: In a certain town, many residents fell ill. A governor arrived, examined the situation, and discovered that the water supply was contaminated and that no one was filtering it. He issued a decree that everyone must filter their water before drinking, and anyone who failed to do so would be fined. Within a short time, everyone recovered. Sometime later, a fire broke out and the entire town burned to the ground. An investigative committee asked: "How could you have failed to extinguish the fire?" They replied: "Do you know how long it took us to filter the water?" The governor said to them: "Fools! Fires are put out even with sewage water!" Alas, we live in a generation consumed by fires, and fires must be extinguished even with dirty water. Therefore, to say, "I will speak only when I am worthy," would mean that no one would ever speak. The reality today compels us to speak under all circumstances.
The Malbim explains that here David turns to discussing the mishpatim (ordinances). In contrast to what he stated earlier, "I will praise You with an upright heart when I learn Your righteous ordinances," where he attained them through the faculty of binah - that is, contemplating them and understanding them in depth - he now adds that this is not enough; rather, he reached a state of crystal-clear knowledge (da'at) regarding them. We have already explained that there are chochmah, binah, and da'at. Chochmah is what we receive from Hashem: the overarching rules and ethical paths we received from Him, blessed be He. Binah is what one extrapolates from this, inferring and understanding further matters. Da'at is full internal identification with what one has learned, where the concepts settle deep within the heart and become part of the person, as in the verse, "And Adam knew Eve his wife," for da'at signifies connection and union.
And where is this clear knowledge given expression? The Malbim in Mishlei explains that the lip (safah) is external, corresponding to da'at; the mouth (peh) is internal, corresponding to chochmah; and the tongue (lashon) corresponds to binah. The mouth represents internality, that which lies hidden inside, which is chochmah - "and wisdom, from where shall it be found?" - an esoteric and internal matter. The tongue is called lashon from the word lishah (kneading): just as the tongue kneads food, it ponders and delves into concepts, which is binah. And the lip is external, that which is already discernible on the outside, and this represents the aspect of da'at: something clear, manifest in action, not concealed internally but openly revealed.
Therefore, "the ordinances of Your mouth" (mishpetei picha) are the judgments built upon the foundations of chochmah, which corresponds to the mouth and the internal dimension. These I have already grasped through binah, as he said, "I will praise You with an upright heart," and now they have reached the level of da'at within me: "with my lips I recounted" (bisefatai siparti). This is already a clear knowledge, akin to a self-evident truth, to the point that I can recount them with my lips. To clarify what this means: a person studies a subject, reads it, and when asked, "Did you understand?" he answers, "I understood." When asked, "Can you explain it?" he replies, "No." At times a concept is deep, and one grasps what is written, but articulating and explaining it proves difficult. Reaching the ability to explain demands a far deeper level of comprehension. The matter must be entirely clear, and only then can one explain it. If it is not completely lucid, one gets stuck midway, even though at the time of reading it seemed understood.
There was once a preacher who remarked: There are those who expound upon secrets (razin), and there are those who expound upon secrets of secrets (razei de-razin). What is the difference? The one who expounds upon secrets understands them himself, while the audience does not understand. But with secrets of secrets, even the speaker himself does not understand what he is saying! In contrast, David says: I have reached a level where I recount the matters clearly with my lips, which denotes a deep, definitive understanding.
The Malbim notes that it is not incidental that the verse states "I recounted" (siparti) rather than "I told" (higadeti), as there is a fundamental difference between haggadah and sippur: haggadah is a concise statement, whereas sippur involves recounting at length, detailing a subject extensively even if it is already known. This parallels what the Rav of Brisk notes regarding one of the distinctions between remembering the Exodus throughout the year and on the night of Pesach: throughout the entire year we are commanded to remember the Exodus by day and by night, whereas on this night we are commanded to recount (lesapper) the Exodus, in the manner of a narrative, meaning at length. Therefore, "with my lips I recounted": not only did I articulate them with my lips, but I also elaborate upon them with all their details. This demonstrates a deeper grasp, the aspect of da'at rather than merely binah, an absolute knowledge and complete mastery of the matters.
The sefer Tehillot Shmuel cites a connection in the name of the Beis Yisrael between three consecutive verses: "In my heart I have hidden Your word, so that I will not sin against You"; "Blessed are You, Hashem, teach me Your statutes"; "With my lips I have recounted all the judgments of Your mouth." Before a person recites the blessings over the Torah (Birkot HaTorah), it is forbidden to articulate words of Torah, just as one may not eat before reciting a blessing. And just as after reciting the blessing borei peri ha'eitz one must not pause or interrupt but must eat immediately, so too after Birkot HaTorah one must not make an interruption; therefore, we immediately recite the verses of Birkat Kohanim so that Torah study immediately follows the blessing.
And what is the law regarding contemplating words of Torah before the blessing? This is a dispute: in the view of the Shulchan Aruch it is permissible to contemplate Torah thoughts, while according to the Vilna Gaon even contemplation is forbidden. Rav Chaim Kanievsky, who ruled in accordance with the Vilna Gaon, was once asked what he did when he woke up during the night and wished to fall back asleep, not wanting to recite Birkot HaTorah so that he would not need to repeat them in the morning. He replied that he would review the names of the Tanna'im and Amora'im in alphabetical order. One may reasonably assume that he never even finished the letter Alef before falling asleep, for with his extraordinary mastery of their names, the letter Alef alone could take an entire night! Incidentally, it is told that as a young child he kept a notebook, and before recording his Torah insights he listed the names of the Sages, among which he wrote "Rav Ganav" (Rav Thief). Who was this rabbi? It turned out he had seen the phrase, "Amar Rav: Ganav meshalem kefel" ("Rav said: A thief pays double"), and to his innocent eyes, that was simply the name of another sage.
To apply this to our verses: before Birkot HaTorah, I do not utter words of Torah with my lips; rather, "In my heart I have hidden Your word" - meditating only in the heart, in accordance with the Shulchan Aruch - "so that I will not sin against You," for it is forbidden to speak words of Torah prior to the blessing. Then, "Blessed are You, Hashem" - after I have recited Birkot HaTorah - "teach me Your statutes," for now I am able to study Torah. And from that point onward, "With my lips I have recounted all the judgments of Your mouth" - I am now free to articulate and recount these matters aloud.
בְּדֶרֶךְ עֵדְוֺתֶיךָ שַּׂשְׂתִּי כְּעַל כָּל הוֹן׃ - In the way of Your testimonies I rejoiced, as over all wealth.
Radak comments on the pronunciation: in the word edvotecha (עֵדְוֺתֶיךָ), the letter vav is vocalized with a sheva na, and so it is in eight verses across this alphabetical acrostic. The mnemonic for these eight occurrences is "בדה מנפצר" (B-D-H M-N-P-Tz-R), while others arrange the mnemonic as "פרץ בן דמה" (P-R-Tz B-N D-M-H). These are the first letters of the verses in which the vav is pronounced with a sheva na. Here, under the letter Beis, in "In the way of Your testimonies" (bederech edvotecha), the vav is vocalized. The sole exception in the chapter is the verse "You commanded righteousness, Your testimonies" (Tzivita tzedek edotecha, verse 138), the only instance where the vav is silent.
And what is the meaning of the verse? I rejoice and exult when I comprehend the way of Your testimonies, the Torah and the statutes, discerning within them wondrous wisdom and upright judgments. I rejoice in them like a person rejoicing over immense wealth that he has found; this is the meaning of "I rejoiced, as over all wealth." This is indeed man's greatest achievement: finding true joy in words of Torah. For one who rejoices in words of Torah finds them sweet, and he will meditate upon them and persevere in them diligently. But if words of Torah taste bitter to a person, how long can he contemplate them? To him it is bitter, devoid of flavor.
A young man once came to Rav Shteinman and asked, "Does the Rosh Yeshivah like steaks?" The Rav asked what steaks were, and the young man explained, "Meat roasted over a fire." The Rav replied, "Presumably not, from the way you describe it." The young man then asked, "And does anyone force the Rosh Yeshivah to eat steaks?" He answered, "No, Baruch Hashem." The young man countered, "The Rosh Yeshivah does not like steaks, and I do not like words of Torah - so why do they force me to learn?" It was a brazen question from an insolent youth, but a pointed question nonetheless.
The Rav replied: "The real question is how it is possible that you do not enjoy learning. After all, 'The orders of Hashem are upright, gladdening the heart,' and 'sweeter than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.' It is so sweet and delightful - how can you not love it? Let me explain it with a parable. There was once a man whose mouth was full of sores. When they brought him honey to eat, he began crying out: 'It burns, it tastes terrible, it is disgusting!' What caused this reaction? He had consumed harmful foods that caused sores in his mouth, so when he tasted honey, it tasted bitter to him. So it is with you: if you do not fill yourself with harmful influences, you will study Torah and see how sweet it is. But if you gorge yourself on all the vanity and nonsense of the outside world, when you come to Torah, it tastes bitter. When a person approaches the Torah untainted, he experiences firsthand that 'The orders of Hashem are upright, gladdening the heart, sweeter than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.' This is 'I rejoiced, as over all wealth' - it is the greatest joy imaginable, something to dance over and celebrate."
The author of the Eglei Tal writes similarly in his introduction: one should not mistakenly think that if a person derives pleasure from his learning, it detracts from the mitzvah, as though he were learning merely for his personal enjoyment. On the contrary, when it comes to words of Torah, one is meant to rejoice in his study, and the Holy One, Blessed be He, rejoices when a person finds joy in Torah study. Far from detracting from the mitzvah, this is the very highest level of engagement in Torah.
The Malbim explains that our verse refers specifically to edot (testimonies). As we have already explained, testimonies are the narratives in the Torah that testify to Hashem's providence, to reward and punishment, and to the fact that the Holy One, Blessed be He, governs His world. There is likewise a distinction between a derech (way or road) and an orach (path), as we have seen: a derech is a major, paved highway, whereas an orach is a smaller, shorter path leading to specific destinations. Therefore, testimonies are associated with derech, as they provide a general, overarching perspective, while pikudim (precepts) - the practical mitzvot that direct these concepts in detail - are referred to as an orach.
For example, the mitzvah of matzah testifies specifically that the Holy One, blessed be He, brought us out of Egypt and that their dough did not have time to leaven; the maror testifies that "they embittered their lives"; the sukkah testifies that He made us dwell in booths; and the redemption of the firstborn testifies that He spared our firstborn. The practical mitzvos that remind us of historical events are called pikudim (precepts). In contrast, eidos (testimonies) are the narratives in the Torah that testify in a broad sense to Hashem's providence and to reward and punishment. In Sefer Bereishis we find many testimonies: what happened to the Generation of the Flood, what happened to the people of Sodom, the conduct of Avraham Avinu, and how the Holy One, blessed be He, bestowed goodness upon his descendants. This is an overarching narrative, and this is a "way" (derech) - the broad highway.
Therefore, "In the way of Your testimonies I have rejoiced as much as in all wealth": I rejoiced as over all wealth, for in this I found every precious treasure and the virtue of faith that a person gathers into his soul. Here I see a great attainment, that I can apprehend Divinity and know that there is Hashem Who governs His world, as we see in Sefer Bereishis, Sefer HaYashar, the book through which we acquire the uprightness of faith, of clinging to Hashem, and of belief in reward and punishment.
בְּפִקּוּדֶיךָ אָשִׂיחָה וְאַבִּיטָה אֹרְחֹתֶיךָ׃ - I will converse of Your precepts, and gaze upon Your pathways.
The pikudim are the specific mitzvos: matzah, maror, the firstborn, sukkah; therefore, they fall under the category of "and gaze upon Your pathways (orchos)." Orchos are specific, direct paths. Through them, we gaze and reflect upon the pathways of Hashem, seeing how the Holy One, blessed be He, guides us on an individual level as well. Every mitzvah represents an act of loving-kindness that He performed for us in a specific manner, and this is far more detailed than the general "way" that shows only the broad themes of faith. Here, the acts of kindness and salvations He wrought for us are revealed in detail, and this is the purpose of the pikudim.
The Radak explains: "I will converse of Your precepts" - when I speak of Your precepts, I contemplate them; "and gaze" - I examine them with the eye of the intellect to know them according to their true reality, not like one who merely mouths words while his heart is far away. A person can read merely by rote recitation, but the question is what remains with him from it. Rav Elyashiv was once brought to a "Shas kollel" where they study through the entire Talmud, and they asked him to test the scholars. After he finished, the rosh kollel asked for his impression, and he replied: "Three were learning; the rest were davening Gemara." An insightful definition: "davening Gemara." Just as one recites, "Happy are they who dwell in Your house, they will yet praise You, Selah," so too he recites the Gemara: "Rav Yehudah said in the name of Rav..." without any contemplation, without focused attention and thought. Babbled by the mouth while the heart is not with it.
This is why it is written, "The Torah of Doeg was only from the lips outward." This is what happens to a person beset by worries: he reads along, and suddenly realizes he has turned half a page without knowing what he read, because his mind is preoccupied with what troubles him - the mortgage, a problem with a child, a problem with his wife, problems at home. Nothing penetrates inside; it is all from the lips outward. And one might even say as a play on words: it remains at the lips (min hasafah) because he is stressed (lachutz, playing on velachutz), and from that pressure he can no longer pay attention to what he is saying. About this David says: I am not like that; "I will converse of Your precepts, and gaze upon Your pathways" - I look and contemplate Your pathways to know them in their true reality.
בְּחֻקֹּתֶיךָ אֶשְׁתַּעֲשָׁע לֹא אֶשְׁכַּח דְּבָרֶךָ׃ - In Your statutes I will delight; I will not forget Your word.
Rashi interprets eshta'asha as an expression of engagement (isuk), similar to "a person shall turn (yisheh) to his Maker" and "let them not pay attention to (al yish'u) deceitful words," which means let them not occupy themselves with deceitful matters. Here too: with Your statutes I will occupy myself; I will not forget Your word. According to Rashi, the question of how one can "delight" in Hashem's statutes is resolved, for it does not mean amusement, but rather diligent engagement. The Radak, however, understands the word in its literal sense: when I contemplate Your statutes and Your Torah, I delight in them - meaning, they bring me great joy, and therefore I will not forget them, for they bring rejoicing and gladness of heart.
The Chasam Sofer was once asked how he merited to remember the entire Torah. He replied: when a person learns something and it thrills and astounds him, it takes hold within him and is never forgotten. Rav Zilberstein offered an example of this: how is it possible for a person to commit a single action and violate six million negative commandments? The Torah states, "You shall not make a gashed wound in your flesh for the dead." The Gemara explains that if one made a single laceration over two deceased people, he has violated two negative prohibitions. Thus, if someone lacerates himself over the six million holy martyrs of the Holocaust, he has violated six million prohibitions! In a single act, a person can violate millions of negative commandments. A concept like this, which is so astounding and wondrous, is never forgotten. Said the Chasam Sofer: every single thing I learned was to me like a great treasure-trove and an immense joy, and after that, one simply does not forget. When you rejoice and possess a great find, you remember it. And this is what the Radak explains: through delighting in Your statutes, I will not forget them, for they bring rejoicing and gladness of heart.
The Malbim explains that here the verse transitions to discussing the chukim (statutes), which presents a difficulty: the statutes cannot be grasped by human intellect, so how can one take delight in them? Had he said, "I will delight in Your judgments (mishpatim)," it would be understandable, for a judgment can be grasped by the intellect. One understands its logic: why someone is liable here and exempt there, why in this case one pays half-damages and in another full damages. In that, one finds joy and understanding. But "in Your statutes"? The statute seems dry, lacking human rationale or logical explanation: "A statute I have enacted."
Rather, the Malbim explains: even the statutes, although beyond intellectual grasp, become a delight to me because of my immense love for the Torah, for I believe with complete faith that within them the hidden portion of the Lawgiver is concealed. The very fact that I cannot comprehend them proves that profound, hidden mysteries are concealed within them that lie beyond our grasp. Regarding what I do understand, it appears to me as though I know why the Torah commanded it. I understand why it says, "Do not murder" - the Torah does not want murder to spread in the world, and any civilized society enacts laws against murder, so it seems to me to share the same logic. But when the Torah commands concerning kilayim (forbidden mixtures), sha'atnez, and the Red Heifer, and the rationale is hidden from me, I am inevitably led to the realization of "one higher than high watches" - that the Holy One, blessed be He, keeps His own secrets, and that these are inner, lofty mysteries that bring about the ultimate perfection of the soul.
Thus, this category of God's statutes becomes the plant of his delight, for it testifies that his soul is sublime and that its holy path is wondrous. When one sees that there are statutes through which the soul attains its perfection, it proves that this soul was hewn from a celestial realm. After all, it is precisely these mysterious statutes - internal matters beyond intellectual grasp - that bring it to completion and elevate it to such spiritual heights. Furthermore, because of the soul's bond with God, its happiness and perfection require performing wondrous deeds that transcend human understanding. The soul connects with God, Who is incomprehensible and beyond human grasp - "no thought can grasp Him at all" - and therefore, when He commands us to fulfill things beyond our intellect, it demonstrates that our soul is exceedingly sublime, and that our connection is to the highest, most transcendent Realm. Thus, this realm embodies "the fear of the Lord is pure, enduring forever," demonstrating the eternity and stature of the soul, and this is the true delight of the soul. "I will delight in Your statutes": it is a joy for me when I am privileged to fulfill God's statutes, which reveal that my soul is sublime and exceedingly elevated.
The Malbim adds: When something has a reason, that reason aids memory. If someone tells me, "Do this on Sunday, that on Monday, and this on Tuesday," and later asks me what is done on Sunday, I will not remember whether it belonged to Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday. But if I am told, "Do this on Sunday, because on Sunday such-and-such occurs," then as soon as I am asked, I recall the rationale and remember. When there is logic, I remember; but when something is presented merely as an arbitrary rule, I do not remember.
Hence, it is exceedingly important that when a person studies Halachah, he should learn it along with its underlying reasons. If he merely studies "do this, and then do that," he will not retain it; but with the reasons, he will remember. For example, a person is taught that one may not interrupt during prayer, but in a certain part of the prayer it is permitted. Where is it permitted - in Elokai Netzor or in the middle of the Shemoneh Esreh? He will tell himself: I learned that Elokai Netzor is a later addition, a personal supplication, whereas the original Shemoneh Esreh instituted by the Men of the Great Assembly concludes with "Who blesses His people Israel with peace, Amen" - which is why Amen is answered there, as the series of blessings has ended. Thus, the leniency certainly applies to Elokai Netzor and not to Shemoneh Esreh itself. In other words, even if one does not recall the ruling offhand, the underlying logic leads him back to it. In anything whose rationale is understood, the comprehension helps a person remember it and reconstruct the halachah.
Regarding this, the verse reveals a profound insight: here it speaks of a chok, and a statute has no humanly apparent reason, so naturally one might not be expected to remember it. However, because the statutes are so precious and cherished in my eyes and I delight in them, the great joy I derive from them ensures that "I will not forget Your word" - I will remember them even though they have no revealed rationale.
In these verses, King David ascends the rungs of Torah: from preservation to study - "Blessed are You, Hashem; teach me Your statutes," so that the statute becomes for us an understood judgment, unlike among the nations of the world who do not study Torah. From understanding to knowledge - "With my lips I have recounted," knowledge so clear that it is outwardly evident, enabling one to recount it at length and transmit it to others, and through this reinforce it within oneself. And from the general to the specific - "In the way of Your testimonies" refers to the general testimonies of God's providence, while "I will speak of Your precepts and gaze upon Your paths" refers to the specific commandments testifying to His individual kindnesses. Finally, "I will delight in Your statutes": precisely in what the intellect cannot grasp, it is revealed that our soul is sublime and connected to the Incomprehensible. Out of this love and joy - akin to the joy of discovering great treasure and the sweetness of honey - a person merits that he will not forget God's word.