Chapter 120 is the first of the "Songs of Ascents" (Shirei HaMa'alot), and it deals primarily with the destructive power of speech and the suffering of exile. In this part of the lesson, we examine David's comparison of the tongue to the sharp arrows of a warrior and coals of broom wood, the lament of the Congregation of Israel in the long exile, and the chapter's conclusion: "I am peace, but when I speak, they are for war."
חִצֵּי גִבּוֹר שְׁנוּנִים עִם גַּחֲלֵי רְתָמִים׃ - Sharp arrows of a warrior, with coals of broom wood.
The tongue is like an arrow: a person shoots here, and the impact hits far away. "With coals of broom wood" - Chazal explain that coals of the broom tree are unique; although they appear extinguished on the outside, they continue smoldering inside. The Gemara mentions broom coals that remained burning for an entire year. This teaches just how enduring the damage of the tongue is: it seems as though the matter was already forgotten and no longer spoken of, and suddenly one sees it erupt, witnessing the devastation caused years later by a fabrication someone invented about his fellow, or a slander someone spread. This is the meaning of "coals of broom wood": cool on the outside, but still scalding within.
Rashi brings another explanation connecting this to the preceding verse: "What shall He give you and what shall He add to you, deceitful tongue?" - what will the Holy One, blessed be He, ultimately decree upon you? "Sharp arrows of a warrior, with coals of broom wood" - arrows from Above and Gehinnom from below. That is, "what shall He give you" is meant in the sense of punishment: what will the Holy One, blessed be He, give you for your deceitful tongue? Arrows from Above and Gehinnom from below.
Radak compares evil speech to the arrows of a warrior - sharp, honed arrows dispatched by the hand of a mighty warrior - and also to the hottest broom coals that burn from within. He explains: with words of deceit, a person acts as if he harbors no ill will toward his fellow, so that the other will not be on guard against him. He approaches him, speaks gently to him, taking note all the while of what he does and says, and then goes and speaks ill of him. This is exactly like broom coals: the coals do not show their boiling heat on the outside, and similarly, you display friendship on the surface while burning from within. And why "with coals of broom wood"? Because both qualities are found in him, says Radak - both the arrows and the burning coals are embodied in him.
The Malbim explains: "Sharp arrows of a warrior" - you are like the sharp arrows of a warrior that kill from a distance, and "coals of broom wood" - from which people do not guard themselves because they burn internally. "The arrows of a warrior" corresponds to false lips: a person speaks lashon hara here, and it kills over there. In the age of telephones, this requires no explanation: a person sits here, speaks a single word, and damage is done across the ocean. "Did so-and-so arrive by you?" "Don't ask, what trouble he had here, he had to flee." That is it - he destroyed him. That person wanted to start a new life in a place where nobody talks about him, wanting to be a respectable person - and with one word, they struck him down all the way in Australia.
Today, examples are hardly necessary, for with social media - into which so many unfortunately fall - a person can publicly shame and humiliate his fellow with a single word, and within minutes it goes viral, spreading just like a contagion. Someone makes a joke, someone photographs another in an embarrassing situation and circulates it, and at times the victim is driven to take his own life. There have been endless stories like this, especially among young people in secular schools where social media is rampant, Hashem have mercy, and more than a few have taken their own lives because they could not bear the disgrace and public humiliation inflicted upon them. See, then, how this weapon kills from afar.
In contrast, a "deceitful tongue" deceives up close and burns his fellow with the breath of his mouth; therefore, it is more like broom coals, which act at close range, whereas lashon hara acts from a distance.
In Midrash HaGadol, an interesting explanation is brought: Why is the tongue compared specifically to arrows? Because with any other weapon, when you raise it, you can also lower it. If you draw a sword from its sheath, you can return it to the scabbard and nothing has happened. But the moment you shoot an arrow, it is over - try bringing it back, it has already been launched! And this is the reality of a person after speaking lashon hara: he said something, and now go tell everyone that what you said is not true. After all, we know how hesitant people often are to believe truth and good reports, but when someone speaks slander, his words take root immediately. If you say something positive about someone, people immediately reply, "He does not seem to me as righteous as you say." But say something negative - "I heard that so-and-so did this and that" - and they believe it instantly. Thus, the tongue is like an arrow: once released, it can never be recalled.
Furthermore, he explains: Scripture did not compare it merely to ordinary coals, but to coals of broomwood, which even when extinguished on the outside remain burning on the inside. Herein lies a profound lesson in mussar: when one speaks lashon hara about someone, even if you subsequently appease him and he appears reconciled on the outside, he still smolders within. If you later approach him and ask for forgiveness, and he says he forgives you - that is like coals of broomwood: on the surface he forgives, but inside the fire still burns. Slander inflicts a personal wound, and when someone is wounded not physically but emotionally, the pain can accompany him for a lifetime. One might say, "I already asked him for forgiveness, and he said he forgives me" - but often he only said so to be rid of you, while deep inside the fire still blazes. Hence, how cautious one must be: the slander you uttered cannot be retrieved, just like an arrow that has flown; and if you hurt someone, even if you appease him, what are the chances that he truly forgives you from the depths of his heart?
אוֹיָה לִי כִּי גַרְתִּי מֶשֶׁךְ שָׁכַנְתִּי עִם אׇהֳלֵי קֵדָר׃ - Woe is me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar!
Rashi explains: Knesset Yisrael says, "I have already suffered in many exiles; 'I sojourned in Meshech' - among the descendants of Yepheth, under the empires of Persia, Greece, and Meshech." Knesset Yisrael laments here the numerous exiles she has endured, and "Meshech" also implies that the exile was prolonged.
The Radak explains that "the tents of Kedar" refers to the exile under Ishmael, for Kedar is of the sons of Ishmael, and the verse uses the imagery of "tents" because they were shepherds and tent-dwellers. In his view, "Meshech" is not a proper place name here, but is derived from the drawing out and prolongation of the exile. And why does the psalmist mention the exile of Ishmael rather than the exile of Edom? Because the vast majority of the Jewish diaspora was among the Ishmaelites; in the time of the Radak, the exile in the lands of Edom, in Europe, was far smaller. Although Europe and France were home to Rashi and the Ba'alei HaTosafot, in those earlier eras the European community did not compare in size to the vast Jewish dispersion in Arab lands; only later, following the Expulsion from Spain, did large numbers arrive in Europe. Therefore, the verse mentions specifically the tents of Kedar, the tents of the Ishmaelites. And why specifically Kedar? Because they were the preeminent, noble families of Ishmael, the rulers of the kingdom.
The Radak further cites an interpretation that Meshech is Kedar itself, and they were called "Meshech" because they were archers who drew the bow, as it was their practice to wage war with bow and arrow. According to this, the verse repeats the idea in synonymous phrasing: "I sojourn in Meshech" - among those who draw the bow, "I dwell among the tents of Kedar" - the very same people. Others say that Meshech refers to descendants of Yepheth; Radak cites Yosef ben Gurion that they are the people of Tuscany, who follow the Christian faith. Tuscany is a region in Italy, northwest of Rome, where the Italian boot connects to the European mainland, home to major cities such as Florence, Pisa, and Livorno.
רַבַּת שָׁכְנָה לָּהּ נַפְשִׁי עִם שׂוֹנֵא שָׁלוֹם׃ - Too long has my soul dwelt with him who hates peace.
The Malbim explains: It would be enough to cry "Woe is me" if I sojourned in Meshech or dwelt among the tents of Kedar, who are wild, hostile, and destructive people. Yet there is a far greater evil - that my soul dwells with those who hate peace. I dwell among my own brethren, the Children of Israel, and among them are those who hate peace, which is worse than the people of Kedar and Meshech. Why? This will be explained in the following verse.
And why does the text use the form "rabbat" rather than "rabbah" or "harbeh"? The Radak explains: The tav here stands in place of a heh, and it is not a construct form - unlike "Rabbat Ammon," where the place name is Rabbah, and in construct it becomes Rabbat Ammon, the capital of Ammon. Similarly, we find "Rabbat tzeraruni min'urai," which means "Much have they distressed me from my youth," and likewise "rabbat ta'asherena." The Radak explains: It has been too much for me to dwell in exile with a nation that hates peace, referring to the gentile nations. According to the Malbim, however, the verse refers to Jews among whom the psalmist lives, who hate peace.
אֲנִי שָׁלוֹם וְכִי אֲדַבֵּר הֵמָּה לַמִּלְחָמָה׃ - I am peace; but when I speak, they are for war.
Ibn Ezra explains "I am peace" in the same sense as "and I am prayer" - I am a person of peace. I speak peace to the people of Meshech and Kedar, yet they only ever come to wage war against me. Radak notes with precision: when I speak peace concerning them, they speak for war - implying that as long as I did not speak, they did not speak of war, and it is specifically when I come to speak peace that this is their reaction.
On the surface, this seems baffling, but in truth there is no need to search for convoluted explanations, as we know this all too well from reality. The tents of Kedar are Ishmaelites, and this is the exact reality of Ishmael: on every occasion when they saw that we were about to reach a peace agreement with them, that something was about to be signed - at the Wye Plantation, in Taba, or anywhere else - it stirred up immense unrest, and an intifada, war, and conflict erupted. Every time they see the conflict nearing an end, it unnerves them more than anything: what does it mean that the conflict ends and Israel remains here? From their perspective, the only true end to the conflict is when we are cast into the sea. Therefore, when they hear "I am peace; but when I speak," it incites them even further - "they are for war."
A similar idea is found in the sefer Sha'arei Simchah: when I speak to my enemies for peace, they are for war. The explanation is remarkable, and it fits our contemporary reality exceedingly well: they interpret my approaching them to talk peace as a sign of weakness - since I cannot subdue them, I have no choice but to make peace with them; whereas once I amass enough strength, I will fight and subdue them. Therefore, whenever I speak peace with them, it incites them to war, as it proves to them that I am weak: you see that the Jews are willing to concede land, willing to grant autonomy - why? Because they cannot defeat us. If so, on the contrary, let us fight them!
We find the same dynamic with Dathan and Abiram: Moshe Rabbeinu summoned them in peace and sought to make peace with them, yet they answered: "Will you gouge out the eyes of those men?" (Bamidbar 16:14) - meaning, outwardly you offer us peace, but in truth your intention is to gouge out our eyes. They, too, interpreted peace as a form of deceit, whereas on his part it was genuine peace.
This was famously articulated by Arafat, may Hashem break his neck in this world and the Next: when asked how he could sign a peace agreement with the Jews, he answered that it was like the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah with the Quraysh - where their founder made an ostensible peace with his enemies to lull them into complacency, only to turn around and strike them later. In their culture, this concept is well known, and while many do not grasp the Arabic rhetoric, they know full well how to broadcast to their people: do not worry, we have no real intention of peace. From this, one sees that what a person suspects in others reflects what is inside himself: because someone constantly schemes, he assumes everyone else does the same. For them, peace is inherently not for the sake of peace, but merely a temporary tactic to strike once one gains strength; therefore, they suspect that when we seek peace, it is only out of a desire to strike them when we grow stronger. Thus, "I am peace; but when I speak" - when they see that I come to speak of peace, it only rouses them all the more to wage war.
The Malbim explains: "I am peace" - even though I am at peace with them, and speak peace with them, "they are for war." This is an innovative interpretation: they too speak peace, but their underlying intent is war. The difference between us is that I speak peace and my inside matches my outside - when I say peace, I truly desire peace; whereas they speak peace, but in reality "they are for war."
The Maharsha in Masechet Ta'anit cites regarding this verse that the chapter refers to the reign of Shaul: there were informers, slanderers, among them, and therefore they would fall in battle against their enemies. Concerning this, the verse says, "I am peace": for in the days of Shemuel there was peace. Furthermore, Shemuel said to them: Do you wish to see that the Holy One, blessed be He, is with us? The hand of Hashem was against the Pelishtim throughout all my days as your prophet, and even now - and he showed them how the Holy One, blessed be He, brought panic upon the Pelishtim, sending thunders down from heaven upon them so that they fled. He said to them: In my days there is peace. And what do they request? A king - "that our king may judge us, and go out before us and fight our battles" (I Shemuel 8:20). How absurd this was: you have no need for a king; in my days you have no wars at all! Yet nonetheless: Step aside, Shemuel; let us have a king who will fight. Are you actively looking for wars? Is a prophet with peace not better than a king with war?
And what did the Holy One, blessed be He, say to him? "They have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me" (I Shemuel 8:7) - their issue is not with you, but with Me. For when you are a prophet of Hashem, their leadership is fundamentally spiritual, and that is what they do not want; they wish to throw off that spirituality, to have a king like all the nations. Therefore, the Holy One, blessed be He, told him to anoint a king over them.
The chapter opens by depicting the severity of the damage caused by the tongue: "sharp arrows of a warrior" - the deceitful speech that kills from afar, and "coals of broomwood" - the tongue of deceit that burns from up close, which, like those coals, appears extinguished on the outside while smoldering within. From this comes the profound moral lesson: an arrow once released cannot be retrieved, and even one who forgives with his lips may still burn with resentment in his heart. From there, the text moves to the lament of exile - "I have sojourned in Meshech, I have dwelt among the tents of Kedar," a prolonged exile among hostile nations - and the Malbim emphasizes that even more painful than this is dwelling alongside enemies of peace from within. And in the conclusion: "I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war" - when I speak of peace sincerely and in good faith, they interpret it as weakness and are stirred to war; and even when they speak peace with their mouths, their intent is war. Finally, we learned from the teachings of the Maharsha that slander from within our own midst is what caused casualties in war, and that in the days of Shmuel, when there was peace, Israel requested a king - concerning which it was said, "It is not you whom they have rejected, but Me whom they have rejected."