Psalm 27 is the psalm we recite during the month of Elul and through Tishrei, and at its core is a single request that King David asks of Hashem - closeness to God. In this lesson, we will continue from where we left off: the phrase "in this I trust," which remained open according to the Malbim, and from there we will ascend to "One thing I have asked" and the rest of the psalm.
אִם תַּחֲנֶה עָלַי מַחֲנֶה לֹא יִירָא לִבִּי, אִם תָּקוּם עָלַי מִלְחָמָה בְּזֹאת אֲנִי בוֹטֵחַ. - Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, in this I trust.
There is a beautiful hint in the word bezot ("in this"): its gematria is 408, which is three times 136 - the numerical value of tzom (fasting), kol (voice/prayer), and mamon (wealth/charity). King David says: If war should rise against me, I have fasting, I have voice - prayer, and I have wealth - charity. "In this I trust" - through these three, I will surely prevail in the battle.
אַחַת שָׁאַלְתִּי מֵאֵת ה' אוֹתָהּ אֲבַקֵּשׁ, שִׁבְתִּי בְּבֵית ה' כָּל יְמֵי חַיַּי, לַחֲזוֹת בְּנֹעַם ה' וּלְבַקֵּר בְּהֵיכָלוֹ. - One thing I have asked of Hashem, that do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of Hashem all the days of my life, to gaze upon the pleasantness of Hashem and to visit His sanctuary.
A person naturally has many requests, constantly changing according to the circumstances of life. When one marries, one asks that the marriage flourish; later, one asks for a home (today this is almost a fantasy, but once it was considered a realistic request); then one asks for children, for a livelihood - each stage brings its own concerns. When the children come of age, one prays for worthy matches for them; at a later stage, one prays for health, and so on.
King David says: With me, there are no changes in my requests. I constantly repeat the exact same request. There was once a young boy who sat at his father's piano and began striking a single key over and over: plink, plink, plink. His father said to him, "My dear son, there are dozens of other keys on that keyboard; do not get stuck on just one." The boy replied, "Father, everyone else is still searching - I have already found it."
King David says: I have found it. I have only one pursuit; I do not ask for many different things. Note the phrasing: "I have asked" (sha'alti) is in the past tense - that very petition I asked of Hashem in the past is the one I continue to seek in the future. And why? Because this single request encompasses everything. There is no need for numerous separate requests when one overarching petition contains them all. It is like the man to whom the king said: "Ask for whatever you wish, since you saved my life." He answered: "I ask for the hand of the king's daughter." That is it - he is now inside the royal palace, and he no longer needs individual favors. By becoming the king's son-in-law, everything is already included.
So says King David: I ask for only one thing - "that I may dwell in the house of Hashem all the days of my life." The request I made to dwell in the house of Hashem is the only one I will continue to seek in the future, for through it, all my needs will be fulfilled.
The Malbim adds another insight: King David testifies that he does not make this request in order to achieve other things through it. Many times a person asks for one thing, but deep down his desire is something else entirely. For example, he asks for the merit to know the entire Torah - and why? Because then he will be important; whatever questions people ask him, he will know how to answer. What honor that brings! On its surface, this appears to be a spiritual request, but hidden within it is an ambition for honor, reputation, and glory. It is not so that through knowing the Torah he might merit closeness to Him, may He be blessed, but rather a request that outwardly expresses perfection while internally it is deeply flawed.
The Malbim explains that in Lashon HaKodesh there is a distinction between a she'elah (an asking) and a bakashah (a seeking), and this is a wonderful explanation. A "she'elah" is what a person asks externally - what he speaks, what he utters with his mouth. A "bakashah," by contrast, expresses the desire of the heart: "those who seek Hashem" (mevakshei Hashem), "seek His face" (bakshu fanav), "Kohelet sought (bikesh) to find words of delight" - a bakashah always expresses what is internal.
King David says: Master of the Universe, I testify about myself. One might have thought that my external petition (she'elah) is for closeness to God and doing Hashem's will, while my internal seeking (bakashah) is that through this I will be financially secure, saved from enemies, and successful in this world. In such a case, the petition and the inner desire are not one: you ask for closeness to God, but inwardly you seek livelihood, relief, rescue from enemies, and worldly success. But with me, this is not so: "One thing have I asked of Hashem, that do I seek" - that very same single petition, to draw close to Hashem and be connected to Him, to behold the pleasantness of Hashem and to visit His Sanctuary, is also my internal seeking. What I ask with my mouth is what I seek in my heart. I have no other intention in my heart.
And if you will say: Surely your other material needs will inevitably be fulfilled through this as well? King David answers: True, but even the material matters fulfilled through this are all for that same purpose. What is my aspiration in being saved from enemies and having financial relief? It is so that I can cling to Hashem, so that I will have tranquility, without being pursued or preoccupied with material worries. Thus, even if there are positive material outcomes here, their ultimate goal is that I be free for the service of Hashem. Everything leads to that one single point: "that I may dwell in the house of Hashem all the days of my life, to behold the pleasantness of Hashem and to visit His Sanctuary."
At first glance, this is puzzling: "to visit (u'levaker) in His Sanctuary" implies paying occasional visits, whereas we want our dwelling in the house of Hashem to be constant and not just a visit! Rashi cites several explanations. Dunash explained: to be seen there every morning - "levaker" from the word boker (morning), meaning to be there every morning. Menachem explained, as Ibn Ezra also explains, that "levaker" is related to inspection (bikoret), as in the verse, "He shall not inspect (lo yevaker) between good and bad": I desire to always be in the Sanctuary of Hashem and see that everything there is good and orderly, and that the Beit HaMikdash functions properly.
The Dubno Maggid offers a wonderful explanation here. A parable: A man had a son who fell ill, wasting away and feeling wretched, refusing to put anything into his mouth. The father summoned a doctor, and the doctor prescribed medicine - but the son refused to take the medicine either. The medicine was meant to stimulate his appetite and bring him to eat something, yet he refused to swallow it. The doctor said to him: I ask only one thing of you - take just one spoonful of the medicine, and I will not ask anything more of you. The boy said: If you promise that you will not ask me for more medicine and will not demand that I eat, but only this one spoonful and that is all - I agree. They promised him they would not urge him any further, and gave him the medicine.
The father was astonished and said to the doctor: What have you done? Now we cannot say a word to him, and he will not eat anything else! The doctor replied: You have nothing to worry about. This medicine will solve all the problems. The moment he takes it, an appetite will awaken within him and he will start to eat. And once he starts eating - that is it, you will not need to force him anymore; it will come on its own. Appetite comes with eating, and he will be on the road to recovery. We only needed to ensure that he would take this one spoonful.
So it is with us, says the Dubno Maggid: "One thing have I asked of Hashem" - what am I asking of Hashem? That He grant me a pure heart, an aspiration to do His will, and devoteness to Him. And after that - "that do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of Hashem all the days of my life." Once Hashem grants me a pure heart - which is the sole request, just that single spoonful of medicine - I will already seek on my own to dwell in the house of Hashem all the days of my life, to behold the pleasantness of Hashem and to visit His Sanctuary. The initial catalyst of tasting closeness to God is enough; from there on, this will be my constant desire. And he adds: Usually, when a person asks a favor of his friend, once he has asked, he does not ask again. But with Torah, it is not so - whoever has tasted the flavor of Torah does not want to leave; he always wants more and more. "One thing have I asked of Hashem" - having asked once, I will return and ask again and again, because the taste will not let me leave.
It is explained in the name of the Chafetz Chaim, as cited in the book Otzar Aharon: It is human nature for desires to shift. The wishes of a wealthy person are not the wishes of a poor person - a poor person can be satisfied with modest things, whereas to satisfy a rich person requires very extraordinary things. Not only that, but even within the same person, without any change in status, desires shift according to his stage in life. Your aspirations at age eighteen are not your aspirations at age thirty, nor at age fifty, nor those of a person at age seventy. Different things interest each stage, and a person's desires change with age.
David HaMelech says: For me, nothing has changed. "One thing I asked of Hashem" - whether when I was an impoverished shepherd or when I was an exalted, wealthy king; in my youth or in my old age. For me, the requests have not changed. The sole aspiration is only "that I may dwell in the house of Hashem all the days of my life." And as was related about Rav Shteinman, when people met him in his youth and asked him, "What do you want to be? What do you aspire to?" he answered them: "A chariot for the Shechinah." And that did not change even when he was one hundred and four years old - the exact same request, simply to be a chariot for the Shechinah. When a person is attached to Hashem, his wishes do not change; he has only one desire - closeness to God. One who has already arrived does not seek other things; he has already found it. "That do I seek."
In the sefer She'eirit Menachem, a teaching is cited from the holy Gaon of Bitschov, who explains based on the Panim Yafot by the author of the Hafla'ah why we recite this psalm in the months of Elul and Tishrei. The Gemara states that one should not pray for two things at once, and whoever prays for two things at once will not be answered even for one of them. In other words, each time, a person should pray for only a single matter. Yet ostensibly, this poses a difficulty: How is it that on the Yamim Noraim we make endless requests? Avinu Malkeinu is an entire series of requests; Avinu Shebashamayim, Aneinu Avinu - we pour out requests in bundles! And yet it says, "One thing I asked of Hashem."
Rather, the explanation is that when the essence of all the requests is one, they are all considered a single request. This is not a multiplicity of requests, but one single request with a unified purpose. And what is the underlying desire in all these requests? To serve Hashem, to merit freedom from disturbances in His service, to gaze upon the pleasantness of Hashem and to visit His sanctuary - and it is all one single matter: to draw close to Him, blessed be He. Even when I ask that He grant rain in its season, open the gates of livelihood for us, and bestow every blessing upon us - what is the objective? In order to serve Hashem. Thus, the essence of all the requests is one, and in truth there is only a single request here. Therefore, specifically during these days, when we multiply our requests, there is a need to recite this psalm: we come, as it were, offering an explanation, saying, "Master of the Universe, these are not multiple requests; this is a single request expressed through various phrasing. We desire Your service and Your closeness, and everything we ask for is solely so that we may merit reaching this ultimate goal."
כִּי יִצְפְּנֵנִי בְּסֻכֹּה בְּיוֹם רָעָה, יַסְתִּרֵנִי בְּסֵתֶר אָהֳלוֹ, בְּצוּר יְרוֹמְמֵנִי. - For He will conceal me in His shelter on the day of evil; He will hide me in the covert of His tent; He will lift me high upon a rock.
Here David HaMelech concludes what he said earlier - "in this I trust" - which, according to the Malbim, we had left open. What is that "this"? After "One thing I asked of Hashem," and the request is to dwell in His house and be close to Him, it is in this that I trust: "For He will conceal me in His shelter on the day of evil." I trust that I will be hidden in the covert of His tent, which serves as a stronghold and a tower against the enemy, and that Hashem "will lift me high upon a rock." A rock (tzur) is a high place to which people would flee and find refuge, and Hashem elevates me and sets me high upon the rock to be saved from the enemies, so that no foe can ascend to reach me. Thus: in what do I trust? In the fact that I requested of Hashem to be close to Him, and therefore I am confident that Hashem will protect me and shield me, conceal me on the day of evil, and hide me in the covert of His tent - since my entire desire is only His closeness. And as the Malbim already cited at the beginning of the chapter from the Rambam, when a person has deveikut to Hashem, he need fear nothing.
And what is the difference between "He will conceal me" (yitzpeneni) and "He will hide me" (yastireni)? The Malbim explains: Concealment (hatzpana) is temporary - one conceals something for the moment. Hiding (hastara), by contrast, implies something hidden completely and for a prolonged period. A sukkah is a temporary structure, and therefore the term "He will conceal me" applies to it - for the short term; whereas a tent is a more permanent structure, and therefore "the covert of His tent" applies to it - hiding for an extended time.
Rashi explains: "For He will conceal me in His sukkah" - in His shelter, which is the Beis HaMikdash, as it is written: "In Salem was His tabernacle [sukko], and His dwelling place in Zion." "Salem" is Yerushalayim, and that is the location of the sukkah - the sheltering place, the site of the Temple. And Rashi cites that we learn in Seder Olam that this verse was said regarding Yoash the son of Achazyah, whom his aunt Yehosheva hid in the upper chamber of the Kodesh HaKodashim, as it is written: "And he was with her hidden in the house of Hashem for six years." For six years he remained hidden there in His shelter - "for He will conceal me in His sukkah" - in the Beis HaMikdash, where he was hidden, of the descendants of David.
וְעַתָּה יָרוּם רֹאשִׁי עַל אֹיְבַי סְבִיבוֹתַי, וְאֶזְבְּחָה בְאָהֳלוֹ זִבְחֵי תְרוּעָה, אָשִׁירָה וַאֲזַמְּרָה לַה'. - And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in His tent sacrifices of joyous shouting; I will sing and praise Hashem.
David HaMelech says: From now on, I will no longer fear any enemy, for when Hashem guards me, conceals me in a sukkah, and hides me, "my head will be lifted up above my enemies all around me" - my head is raised above the enemies who come to besiege me from every side. And what are "sacrifices of joyous shouting" (zivchei teru'ah)? The Malbim explains: A person who wages war against his enemies and triumphs offers sacrifices of jubilation, bringing offerings of joyous trumpet blasts, for the teru'ah is an expression of victory in battle. When they triumphed in war they would sound the trumpets, as it is written: "When you go to war in your land... you shall sound a blast [vaharei'otem] on the trumpets" - blasts of victory. And the sacrifices express the joyous shout of victory.
Rather, King David is saying: I did not actually fight a battle here. Hashem concealed me, hid me in His tent, and struck down my enemies before me; I did not go out to war. I was in the House of Hashem, and the Holy One, Blessed is He, did the work for me. It turns out that the very act of dwelling in the tent is the battle blast, the victory itself. Therefore, the verse can be explained: "And I will offer in His tent" - how do I offer sacrifices? By the very fact of being in His tent, by being hidden in Hashem's tent - this itself is the sacrifice and the thanksgiving before Him. And therefore, "I will sing and chant praise to Hashem," for Hashem struck down my enemies before me, and I praise Him for saving me without my needing to go out to battle myself.
And what is the reason for the double phrasing "I will sing and chant praise" (ashirah va'azamrah)? The Malbim explains in Sefer Shoftim: zemer (chanting praise) is reserved exclusively for praising Hashem, whereas shir (song) can also refer to mundane or natural matters - people sing about all kinds of earthly things. Therefore, we always find that zemer comes after shir, because it is on a higher level: "Sing to Him, chant praise to Him" (shiru lo, zamru lo) - we sing to Hashem, but song is lower, so we also add chanting praise to Him, which is unique solely to Him, Blessed be He.
Incidentally, there is a verse: "Sing to Hashem a new song, His praise in the assembly of the pious" (Tehillim 149:1). People ask: Why must we sing a new song to Hashem? What is wrong with the good old songs? The answer is: "His praise in the assembly of the pious" - the Chassidim already sing the old songs to their Rebbes! If so, what is left to sing to Hashem? There is no choice but to compose new songs for Him. This insight fits beautifully with the Malbim's words: a song (shir) can apply to natural things as well - one can sing it to a Rebbe or for everyday occasions - and therefore, one must compose new songs for the Creator, Blessed be He.
שְׁמַע ה' קוֹלִי אֶקְרָא, וְחָנֵּנִי וַעֲנֵנִי. - Hear, Hashem, my voice when I call; be gracious to me and answer me.
Following this introduction, King David begins to pray that Hashem remove all those who obstruct and disturb him in his service of Hashem. He explains: Master of the Universe, this is not for my own sake, not for my personal freedom or comfort, but solely so that I may serve the Holy One, Blessed is He - that I may be free for Your service. Therefore he asks, "Hear, Hashem, my voice when I call" - hear the prayer I now offer to You to be delivered from my enemies; "and be gracious to me" - grant me an unearned gift; "and answer me" - answer me by bringing me salvation.
לְךָ אָמַר לִבִּי בַּקְּשׁוּ פָנָי, אֶת פָּנֶיךָ ה' אֲבַקֵּשׁ. - To You my heart has said: "Seek My face"; Your face, Hashem, I will seek.
Even though with my mouth I ask for other things - to be saved from my adversaries and enemies, which outwardly appear to be material requests like anyone else asking to be delivered from troubles - for me, it is not so, because my inner petition is the service of Hashem. David says: My heart has already spoken "to You" regarding the core request. The Malbim explains the verse as a continuous thought, without the pause indicated by the cantillation marks (and as we have noted more than once, the Malbim does not always follow the cantillation marks, explaining verses according to his own understanding): "To You my heart has said: Let my face seek Your face, Hashem." What is my primary request and aspiration? That my face should seek Your face.
And what is "my face" (panai)? It is my inner being (pnimiyus). Why is the face called panim? Because it is the most visible feature of a person, reflecting everything happening inside: whether one is depressed, sad, joyous, pensive, or troubled, the face (panim) reveals the interior (pnim). King David says: My face and my innermost being seek Your face and nothing else. Only Your face, which represents spiritual perception and clinging to Hashem and to the presence of Hashem - for "in the light of Your face You gave us the Torah of life and a love of kindness"; everything is found in the light of Hashem's countenance. And my heart speaks to Hashem and says: I tell my inner self - seek only Hashem, Blessed be He, and that alone is what I will seek.
We must understand why the Malbim, as well as Rashi, required such an intricate explanation. For seemingly the verse should have said: You said to me, "Seek My face." But "To You my heart has said: 'Seek my face'" - David's own face? While "Your face, Hashem, I will seek" is clear, what is the meaning of "Seek my face" referring to David himself? Rashi therefore explains: "To You my heart said" - on Your behalf, as Your emissary, my heart spoke to the people. I am like Hashem's mouthpiece; my heart speaks to the people as an intermediary between the people and Hashem: What does Hashem say? "Seek My face." I am not speaking for myself, asking that they seek my own face; rather, I speak as His messenger, telling them that Hashem says, "Seek My face." And as for me, "I heed Him: 'Your face, Hashem, I will seek'" - I personally seek Hashem's presence.
אַל תַּסְתֵּר פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי, אַל תַּט בְּאַף עַבְדֶּךָ, עֶזְרָתִי הָיִיתָ, אַל תִּטְּשֵׁנִי וְאַל תַּעַזְבֵנִי אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׁעִי. - Do not hide Your face from me, do not turn Your servant away in anger; You have been my help; do not forsake me and do not abandon me, O God of my salvation.
"Do not hide Your face from me" - let there be no hindrance, whether from Your side, that You conceal Your face from me, or from my side, "do not turn Your servant away in anger" - do not turn Your face from me in anger at Your servant. The Malbim explains that this means: let nothing hold me back, neither the profundity of the concept nor the inadequacy of the perceiver. The profundity of the concept refers to the concealment of the face from Your side, that the matter is deep and difficult to grasp, "Deep, deep, who can find it?" The inadequacy of the perceiver refers to the fact that I, the one attempting to perceive, fall short in the service of Hashem and do not serve Him sufficiently, and because of my shortcomings in His service, there is anger directed toward me. Therefore, "do not turn Your servant away in anger" - do not divert me from the upright path through anger. After all, You have always "been my help" in areas where I lacked the strength to cling to You on my own; I need assistance, and therefore now as well, do not forsake me, and help me cleave to You.
The Malbim adds that *netishah* (forsaking) is more severe than *azivah* (abandoning), which is why it says, "Do not forsake me and do not abandon me": do not cast me off, and not only forsaking - do not abandon me even for a moment. Rashi, on the other hand, explains that "do not turn" (*al tat*) means do not tip the scales against Your servant in anger, do not sentence me for ill, as in the phrase "and He bent (*vayet*) the heavens," which means tilting and bringing down the heavens.
The Radak explains: "Do not hide Your face from me" - just as I said, "Your face, Hashem, I seek," I ask that You do not conceal it from me. "And do not turn Your servant away in anger" - do not divert me and burden me with business and worldly affairs, for these matters are in the category of *af* (anger): they provoke a person, agitate him, and give him no rest. All material pursuits bring tension to those engaged in them and bring sorrow to a person; spiritual matters fill a person with inner substance, whereas materialism brings disappointments, grief, and heartache. Who can say that he indulged in this world and is truly happy and content in his life? Therefore, David says: do not burden me with the affairs of this world, which only provoke anger and are mostly toil and trouble, distancing me from the service of Hashem. And just as until now "You have been my help" in matters of bodily needs, so too I ask that You help me in matters of the soul's needs, "do not forsake me and do not abandon me, O God of my salvation," so that through this I may devote myself to spiritual pursuits.
כִּי אָבִי וְאִמִּי עֲזָבוּנִי, וַה' יַאַסְפֵנִי. - Though my father and my mother have forsaken me, Hashem will gather me in.
The Malbim explains that David compares himself to an orphan whose father and mother have abandoned him, and Hashem had compassion on him and gathered him in to raise him. If so, Master of the Universe, since all my needs depend on You, it is fitting that You guide me on the proper path - I have no one else; only You can guide me.
According to the well-known explanation brought in Midrash HaMechiri, and discussed in lessons for Shavuot: King David was suspected of being illegitimate (*mamzer*). This came about because Yishai, David's father, sought to purify his lineage, as he was not certain whether the prohibition of Ammonite and Moabite converts applied to him - since the halachic ruling that "an Ammonite [male is forbidden], but not an Ammonite woman; a Moabite [male], but not a Moabite woman" had not yet become widely publicized and established, and he descended from Ruth the Moabitess. How did he seek to purify his lineage? He intended to cohabit with his maidservant; the child born would be a slave, whom he would subsequently emancipate, thereby becoming a fully kosher Israelite, ensuring that Yishai would have at least one unblemished son. However, the maidservant knew of this plan - he told her to prepare herself for the evening - and she went and revealed it to her mistress. Yishai's wife then took her place, and Yishai impregnated his wife without realizing it, fully believing he was with his maidservant. Afterwards, he suddenly saw that his wife was pregnant, at a time when he knew he had not approached her for a long period, for he had separated from her so as not to father more children of questionable status. When she gave birth to David, he was convinced that she had conceived through infidelity. Therefore, he banished the boy and sent him away to the flock, hoping perhaps that a lion or a bear would come and remove the disgrace from the house of Yishai. This topic has been discussed at length, and is also elaborated in *Mishnat HaGilgulim*.
According to this, "Though my father and my mother have forsaken me" is understood remarkably well: his father did not acknowledge him, and his mother could not acknowledge him, since she had promised the maidservant not to disclose the matter - the maidservant had revealed the plan on the condition that she would not tell Yishai - leaving her compelled not to reveal to her husband that the child was his. Thus, David grew up as an outcast, "I have become a stranger to my brothers, and an alien to my mother's sons." About this he says: my father and mother abandoned me and sent me out to the flock, and if so, who will help me? Only You, Hashem - "Hashem will gather me in."
Rashi cites a wondrous explanation from the Midrash, found in Midrash Rabbah on Parashat Tazria (14:5): "My father and my mother have forsaken me" - during intimacy, their intention was for their own pleasure; as soon as their pleasure ended, this one turns his face one way and that one turns her face the other way. This demonstrates that their entire focus was on their own gratification, and so to speak, they abandoned me and paid no heed to me. "Hashem will gather me in" - who truly gathered me in? The Holy One, blessed be He, Who watches over the drop and forms the embryo.
Some explain, as recorded in various sources, that "My father and my mother have forsaken me" refers to that very episode: while Yishai was with his wife, believing her to be his maidservant, he discovered at the final moment, at the conclusion of intimacy, that she was his wife, and he withdrew from her. This is "my father and mother have forsaken me." And who gathered the seed? "Hashem will gather me in" - the Holy One, blessed be He, gathered the drop and formed the embryo. As is recorded: he then separated from his wife, the drop was spilled, and the Holy One, blessed be He, placed it into her womb. Whether this is an explicit Midrash is uncertain, but it is cited in holy sefarim, and the Chida cites it. According to this, "Hashem will gather me in" fits remarkably well, and it also aligns with the teaching of Chazal that David was originally destined to be a stillborn (*nefel*) - for at the moment of conception, it was indeed as a stillborn, since the drop was discharged outwardly when Yishai realized she was his wife, and Hashem gathered the drop and, as it were, impregnated Yishai's wife with it. According to this, we can also understand the Midrash's wording, "As soon as their pleasure ended, this one turns his face one way," meaning that they themselves did not effect conception; rather, only "Hashem will gather me in," for He preserved the drop and formed the embryo.
This requires explanation: after all, Yishai was one of the four who died solely through the instigation of the serpent, entirely holy of holies, without any blemish or flaw. How could it be said of him that "at the time of union they intended for their own pleasure"? Looking into this, some suggest that "they intended for their own pleasure" means that Yishai intended to purify his seed, so that his entire concern here was for his own spiritual fulfillment - to have a holy, pure son without blemish. Yet this is somewhat forced according to the wording of the Midrash, which speaks of both the father and the mother, stating, "Once they finished their pleasure, this one turned his face here and that one turned her face there."
The more satisfying explanation is what the commentators explain, and Rav Dessler speaks extensively on this subject: even the most holy, elevated, and sublime human being still retains the "shadow of the body." This does not mean he is coarse, but rather that it is impossible for the physical body not to exert some subtle influence, and this is called the shadow of the body. On the most infinitesimal level, there still remains self-interest and personal desire, and this is the root of all the shortcomings of great leaders. For a person does not become an angel; even Moshe Rabbeinu is not an angel, and he still retained the shadow of the body. Within the shadow of the body there can be the subtlest trace of anger, of "Hear now, you rebels," of "You have gone too far, sons of Levi" - matters for which he was held accountable due to that infinitely subtle influence of the physical body. So too here: even Yishai, with all his lofty spiritual stature, could not be entirely free during the act of union from the subtlest trace of "intending for their own pleasure," and that is what the Midrash is addressing.
David HaMelech teaches us in this psalm the secret of the single request. "In this I trust" - through fasting, voice, and charity (tzom, kol, and mamon), and above all through the fact that my entire yearning is one: "One thing I have asked of Hashem, that I will seek," that the request of the mouth and the yearning of the heart be one and the same - closeness to Hashem, to behold the pleasantness of Hashem and to visit His Sanctuary. By virtue of this, he is confident that Hashem will shelter him in His tabernacle, conceal him in the covert of His tent, and lift him high upon a rock, defeating his enemies without battle, until "I will offer in His tent sacrifices of joy" - the very act of dwelling in the tent is the sacrifice and the sounding of the shofar, and from that, "I will sing and chant praise to Hashem." From there he turns in prayer that nothing hold him back, neither the depth of the concept nor the inadequacy of the perceiver, nor the distractions of this world, which are all "wrath" (af), and testifies that even when his father and mother had forsaken him, Hashem gathered him in. This is the psalm's message for the days of Elul and Tishrei: all our manifold requests are ultimately just one request - to serve Him and to be close to Him.