We continue in Psalm 119 with the letter Zayin. David HaMelech continues to weave into every single verse one of the designations of the Torah - Devar (word), Imrah (utterance), Torah (teaching/law), Mishpat (judgment), Chok (statute), Pikud (precept), Eidut (testimony) - and the Malbim teaches us to identify in each verse its "focal point," the central concept around which it revolves. In the verses before us, David stands in a time of distress, persecuted and taunted, drawing his strength from the promise made to him and from the remembrance of the Holy One, Blessed be He's ways of justice.
זְכֹר־דָּבָר לְעַבְדֶּךָ עַל אֲשֶׁר יִחַלְתָּנִי׃ - Remember the word to Your servant, upon which You caused me to hope.
"Remember the word to Your servant" - remember the word You promised me through Natan the prophet, the promise that You caused me to yearn for and await its fulfillment. This is the meaning of "upon which You caused me to hope" (yichaltani): You Yourself caused me to anticipate and wait. The Malbim notes that the focal point of this verse is "Devarim" (words/promises) - the promise spoken to him by the word of Hashem.
Here the Malbim teaches a fundamental distinction in Lashon HaKodesh between tikvah (hope) and yichul (certain expectation). One who "hopes" (mekaveh) refers to something uncertain, where no firm commitment exists; one who "awaits with certainty" (meyachel) refers to someone waiting for something that has been promised. We sense this even in our own speech: when someone is asked, "Will he arrive?" and responds, "I hope so," we all understand that there is no guarantee. But "You caused me to hope" (yichaltani) means: You promised me, and therefore I await with certainty that it will come to pass.
זֹאת נֶחָמָתִי בְעׇנְיִי כִּי אִמְרָתְךָ חִיָּתְנִי׃ - This is my comfort in my affliction, for Your promise has revived me.
Ibn Ezra explains: I remember that Your utterance has already revived me multiple times in the past, and this is my comfort in my affliction. When a person is in danger and does not know what tomorrow will bring, yet past experience proves to him that Hashem has always delivered him in times of distress, this brings him comfort now as well: just as Hashem saved me in the past, so will He save me in the future.
The Radak interprets "in my affliction" - when I was in exile. The expectation mentioned in the previous verse, that which You caused me to await through Natan the prophet - that a royal lineage and dynasty would descend from me - was what sustained me. Even when I was in exile and in the most dire straits, to the point that I said in my haste, "All men are deceitful," and it seemed there was no chance I would survive, the utterance You promised me through Natan the prophet that I would reign was what revived me and gave me the strength to endure.
The Malbim notes that the focal point here is "Imrot" (utterances/promises). David says this while fleeing from Avshalom: even though I am tormented, I find comfort in that very promise, for the very fact that I remained alive and did not fall into Avshalom's hands was through Your utterance. This is the comfort, and this is the strength to survive even in the most desperate circumstances.
זֵדִים הֱלִיצֻנִי עַד־מְאֹד מִתּוֹרָתְךָ לֹא נָטִיתִי׃ - The arrogant have mocked me exceedingly, yet from Your Torah I have not swerved.
Radak explains: They spoke about me and mocked me for my constant involvement in Torah. They continually ridiculed me - here is King David going to the Beit Midrash again, sitting and learning once more instead of attending to the affairs of the kingdom. Yet all this mockery did not cause me to change my ways: "from Your Torah I have not swerved."
The Malbim explains that the focal point here is "Torah": even though the arrogant mocked me exceedingly, from Your Torah I did not swerve. They directed words of mockery and disgrace toward me, like Shimei who called me "a man of blood" and "a scoundrel" - yet this was despite my clinging to Your Torah, for I am neither a man of blood nor a scoundrel.
Yet there is a puzzling nuance here: according to this explanation, it should have said "the arrogant mocked me" (letzu alai or hitlotzetzu bi). Why does the verse say helitzuni - in an active form upon me, as though they made me into a scoffer? Looking into who addresses this question, the sefer Or HaChamah resolves it based on what David said, "For they have driven me out today from attaching myself to the inheritance of Hashem" - that is, telling me, "Go, worship other gods." When they drove David from the Land and pursued him until he was forced to flee abroad, he could not engage in Torah study properly, and one who lives outside the Land of Israel is compared to one who has no God. One who does not engage in Torah and is distanced from Hashem is in the realm of the "seat of scoffers" (moshav leitzim). This is "the arrogant helitzuni": they brought me into the category of a scoffer by driving me out from attaching to the inheritance of Hashem, preventing me from Torah study. According to this, the expression helitzuni is precise - they made me like a scoffer.
In the sefer Tehillot Maharitz, the verse is explained in another way. Chazal teach that the wicked would come to David's windows and ask: King David, when will the Beit HaMikdash finally be built? David testifies about himself that even though these were his enemies coming to torment him, "I rejoiced when they said to me, 'Let us go to the House of Hashem'" - I rejoiced in the statement itself, longing for when we would merit it. But their intention was to search for a flaw in him: as long as you are alive, you are the obstacle delaying the building of the Beit HaMikdash, for the prophet told him that he would not build the House, but rather his son Shlomo. It was as if they were saying: perhaps it would be better if you passed away already, and then the House will be built. Furthermore, they attributed this to his faults - the incident with Batsheva, and "you have shed much blood."
The Tehillot Maharitz adds that they found another pretext against him: David, you are not building the Beit HaMikdash because the construction costs a vast fortune. It was entirely overlaid with gold, built over seven years at enormous expense - evidently you are miserly and do not want to spend the money. This is "the arrogant mocked me ad me'od (exceedingly)": me'od refers to wealth, as Chazal expound on "with all your might (me'odecha)" - this means your wealth. They mocked me and claimed that I serve Hashem only up to me'od - up to, but not including, my money. When it comes to finances, they claimed I am unwilling to spend for His honor, blessed be He.
David replies: That was not the reason at all. Rather, "I remembered Your judgments from of old, Hashem, and was comforted." The true reason I did not build it was that I remembered the attribute of strict justice, and that if the Jewish people were to sin, retribution would have to be exacted from them. And how does the Holy One, blessed be He, exact retribution in a way that allows the people of Israel to survive? "He spent His wrath on wood and stones" and not on the Jewish people - destroying the Temple while leaving the nation alive. Had David built the Beit HaMikdash, the handiwork of a tzaddik endures forever, and the Temple could never have been destroyed. Indeed, we have a tradition that the Western Wall stems from David's construction, which is why it endures forever; had the entire Temple been like that, it would have been impossible to expend the wrath on wood and stones, and Heaven forbid, that wrath would have been visited upon the people of Israel. Therefore, "and I was comforted" - this is my comfort, that it was good the Temple was not built in my lifetime, so that the people of Israel would survive and not perish, and strict justice would spend its fury on the wood and stones built by my son Shlomo.
זָכַרְתִּי מִשְׁפָּטֶיךָ מֵעוֹלָם יְהֹוָה וָאֶתְנֶחָם׃ - I remembered Your judgments from of old, Hashem, and I was comforted.
Rashi explains: "Your judgments from of old" - that You bring suffering, yet relent from Your wrath and forgive; therefore I am comforted. The Steipler Gaon wrote a lengthy letter on this theme regarding the verse, "He sets an end to darkness." When a person is in a time of distress, the trouble fills his entire vision; it is all he sees, and he can reach a state of terrible despair, sometimes even Heaven forbid taking his own life. But if he remembers that for every affliction, the Holy One, blessed be He, has fixed the time of its arrival and the time of its departure, that even for suffering and the darkest periods the Holy One, blessed be He, has set a limit - then while the situation is indeed difficult and painful, it is temporary. Thus said Rabbi Akiva: For every single wave, I nodded my head to it. Such a person nods his head and says: This too shall pass.
This is what David says: Master of the Universe, I remember the judgments and decrees that You have brought throughout history, and I remember that ultimately, after the judgments, You pardon and forgive - and that is my comfort. Even though I am now experiencing harsh decrees and judgments, being hunted and suffering, having reached the brink of death on multiple occasions, I remember the true nature of Hashem's judgments: they are temporary. There is judgment followed by compassion; there is strict justice followed by mercy. This brings me comfort even in the most dreadful circumstances.
The Radak cites an additional interpretation in the name of the Ibn Ezra: "I remembered Your judgments" - the judgments You executed upon the insolent of past generations, like those arrogant people mentioned in the previous verse; "and I took comfort" - that You will do likewise to the insolent who torment me now. They torment me greatly, but I remember how You exact retribution from the arrogant, and this comforts me that You will deal with these fittingly.
The Radak brings yet another explanation: when I am in my affliction and suffering, I recall the afflictions and judgments You brought upon righteous people in years past, after which You brought good upon them. And this comforts me - that even if You currently bring judgments upon me, in the future You will bring me good. This is akin to what we explained from Rashi: "He sets an end to darkness." I have seen throughout history, "Your judgments of old," and from this I draw comfort that the judgment is only temporary.
The Malbim explains that the focal point here is "judgments," and this verse is a continuation of the preceding one: even though the insolent mocked me and Shimei calls me a man of bloodshed and a scoundrel, and yet I did not deviate from Your Torah - despite all this, I remember that You guide everything with justice and judgment, and through this "I took comfort." As David himself said: "Perhaps Hashem will look upon my affliction and repay me with good instead of his curse this day." Precisely through this persecution and torment, You will now have mercy upon me.
So it is written: "When your enemy falls, do not rejoice, and when he stumbles, let your heart not be glad," followed by: "Lest Hashem see it, and it displease Him, and He turn away His wrath from him." As we have explained in the past: sometimes suffering is decreed upon a person, but having everyone around look on, applaud, and mock - that is no longer deserved; that is suffering beyond measure. Then the tables may turn, and the very person who deserved suffering will now receive good, because he endured more than he deserved.
At one time, one of the heretics and violators of the covenant attacked one of the Gedolim and insulted him in print. The Rav of Brisk warned: be careful not to overfill the measure; do not go to extremes, for "God seeks the pursued" - even if the pursued is wicked. In other words, do not turn him into the victim. One must protest against him, but overdoing it may lead to a situation of "lest Hashem see it, and it displease Him, and He turn away His wrath from him," and then the tables will turn.
And this is what King David says happened to him: when they came and insulted him with the harshest terms, calling him "a man of bloodshed," "a scoundrel," a man standing and reviling the king of Israel, casting him from a high roof into a deep pit - this itself could bring about that "perhaps Hashem will look upon my affliction and repay me with good instead of his curse this day." For I have already received beyond what I deserved, and through this He will turn away His wrath from me.
זַלְעָפָה אֲחָזַתְנִי מֵרְשָׁעִים עֹזְבֵי תּוֹרָתֶךָ׃ - A shudder seized me because of the wicked, who forsake Your Torah.
The Ibn Ezra explains zal'afah from the expression "a scorching wind" (ruach zal'afot): I was terrified of how the wicked could abandon Your Torah. The Radak explains it as trembling: a trembling seized me on account of the wicked who forsake Your Torah - what will become of their ultimate end? My entire body trembles when I see their tranquility, and I dread what will happen to them in the end. I see them living peacefully, and this does not comfort me at all; on the contrary, it terrifies me - this is the shudder and trembling that seizes me at the sight of their tranquility.
The Malbim explains that the focal point here is "Torah": when I remember Your judgments, a shudder seizes me because of the wicked who forsake Your Torah. That is, trembling grips me when I recall the judgment You execute upon the wicked who abandon the Torah. I know that their judgment is bitter and terrible and their punishment is severe, and this leads me to tremble - lest I be among those who forsake Your Torah, but rather cling to the Torah, for woe to them, I see what befalls the wicked who abandon the Torah, how much fierce wrath and great punishment await them.
The Tehillot Maharit explains the verse in a completely different way. It is well known that there is an issue with taking charity from a non-Jew. It is not an outright prohibition, but there is a significant spiritual concern: when you take charity from a non-Jew, you grant him merits and add strength to the kelipah and the sitra achra. Now he possesses a merit - he keeps Jews alive and supports the Torah. And indeed, "Righteousness exalts a nation" (tzedakah teromem goy). In the very acceptance of charity from a gentile, there is a great drawback.
It is told that Rav Kaduri was once flying on an airplane, and a Christian man was sitting next to him. That man's wife told him to go and request a blessing from the holy Jew sitting there. He went and asked, and the Rav blessed him, and the man wanted to give a donation for the blessing. The Rav took the money and told his attendant: "Buy cigarettes with this" (it is known that the Rav used to smoke, though he did not inhale the smoke into his lungs). And what did he wish to express through this? That if you have already accepted money from a non-Jew, God forbid that the money should be used for holiness: do not buy a holy book with it and do not use it for food, but rather for something that goes up in smoke and leaves nothing behind.
Similarly, we find regarding Betzalel, of whom it is said "to devise designs" (lachshov machashavot) - that he knew with what intention the donation was given and by whom, and in this way he directed every contribution toward its proper destination. The worthy items went to the sacred vessels, and what was not worthy did not.
According to this, the Tehillot Maharit says: when the wicked are supporters of Torah, we face a real problem. This merit stands in their favor so that they will not perish, and wickedness endures because it possesses merits - and we do not want it to have merits; we want all wickedness to dissipate entirely like smoke.
Regarding this, King David says, "A burning tremor seized me" (zal'afah achazatni) - of this I am afraid, and of this I am deeply terrified. Of what? "Of the wicked who forsake Your Torah" (me-resha'im ozevei Toratecha). Note the meaning of the word ozevei: we are accustomed to understanding azivah as abandonment or forsaking, but in the Holy Tongue this word has an additional meaning - "you shall surely help with him" (azov ta'azov imo), which means to assist him; and "they fortified [vaya'azvu] Jerusalem," in the sense of construction, that they fortified the wall. If so, "wicked who ozevei Your Torah" can mean the helpers and supporters of Your Torah. From this a trembling seizes me, for these wicked people accumulate merits, and then it becomes exceedingly difficult for holiness to wage battle against them.
And do not say: if they support Torah, they are no longer wicked. Just because a gentile gave charity, is he no longer a gentile? So too with the wicked person: he committed all the grave sins, and he also gave charity. It is well known that on Yom Kippur, the largest donors are often from organized crime families - such a person comes and buys himself merits, buys petichat ha-heichal (opening the Ark), buys an insurance policy for the coming year, and all year long he is nowhere to be seen, until he returns on Yom Kippur.
Is it permissible to accept money from them? This is discussed in Halachah. Strictly speaking it is permitted, though there were great Rabbis who were unwilling to accept money from Sabbath desecrators. The main problem arises when most of his money was earned through sin - if most of his business involves gambling and the like, it is written not to accept it. But if that is not the majority of his business, and he has legitimate businesses alongside questionable ones, there is more room for leniency. Yet there were righteous people who refused to touch even this. This is a pious stringency, not an obligation. Take Satmar, for example: they refuse to take a single penny of state funds because they consider it money from the wicked, and even if it is offered to them, they will not accept it. Moreover, whoever refrains from taking state funding, Satmar takes under its wing and commits to helping sustain their institutions. However, one must remember: avoiding tainted money is no simple feat, and for those who can manage it - Satmar in America includes some of the greatest philanthropists, and that is where the capability comes from.
Incidentally, winning the lottery in the United States is easier - not technically, but halachically. When one wins the lottery here in Israel, one enters into the concern of asmachta, which borders on theft. The problem is not filling out the ticket, but winning: when you win, you are essentially profiting from theft, because every person who gave money intended and hoped to win, and had they told him in advance that he would not win this week, he would not have given even a single shekel. This is an asmachta, and we hold that "an asmachta does not effect transfer of ownership" (those learning Daf Yomi will reach this soon in Bava Metzia). But in the United States, where non-Jews are involved, there is no such issue: outright robbery of a non-Jew is forbidden, but in the case of an asmachta or a mistake made by a non-Jew, it is permitted.
In the stanza of the letter Zayin, King David teaches us how to hold fast in times of trouble. He yearns - with an anticipation of certainty, not mere wishful thinking - for Hashem's promise conveyed to him through Natan the prophet (v. 49). He finds comfort in his affliction through the power of the word that has already revived him in the past (v. 50). He withstands the mockery of the insolent and does not swerve from the Torah, revealing to us that the true reason he did not build the Beit HaMikdash was his deep concern for the Jewish people, so that the Attribute of Justice might vent its wrath upon wood and stone (vv. 51-52). He remembers that Hashem's judgments are temporary - judgment is followed by mercy, and an end is set to darkness (v. 52). And finally, he trembles before the wicked: both over what awaits those who forsake the Torah, and over the power acquired by the wicked through the merits they accumulate (v. 53). From all of this emerges a single message: one who remembers Hashem's promise and the ways of His judgment finds comfort and the strength to endure in every situation.