The passage before us is the conclusion of chapter 57 in Yeshayahu. Following the severe rebuke regarding idolatry and licentiousness, the prophet transitions to words of comfort: a promise that divine wrath is not eternal, a call to repentance, an assurance of healing and consolation - and contrasting this, a sharp declaration that the wicked who refuse to repent have no peace. We will proceed through the verses following the explanations of the Malbim, Radak, Rashi, and the words of Chazal.
כִּי לֹא לְעוֹלָם אָרִיב וְלֹא לָנֶצַח אֶקְצוֹף כִּי רוּחַ מִלְּפָנַי יַעֲטוֹף וּנְשָׁמוֹת אֲנִי עָשִׂיתִי׃ - For I will not contend forever, nor will I be wrathful for eternity; when the spirit before Me faints, and the souls which I have made.
A major principle is presented here by the Malbim, which is the distinction between le'olam ("forever", within the framework of this world) and netzach ("eternity"). Netzach denotes that which transcends time and space: "pleasures at Your right hand for eternity (netzach)," "like his own dung he will perish forever (la'netzach)," "unnoticed, they perish forever (la'netzach)" - eternal perdition. By contrast, le'olam functions within the framework of time: the lifespan of a person (olamo shel adam) or the duration of the world (olamo shel olam).
According to this, the verse becomes clear. Contention and affliction pertain to the physical body, and the body exists within the framework of time. Therefore, the Holy One, Blessed be He, says, "I will not contend forever (le'olam)": I will not afflict a person's body for all the days of his earthly life. Wrath (ketzef), on the other hand, is directed toward the soul, toward the spiritual dimension, and concerning this it says, "nor will I be wrathful for eternity (lanetzach)... for the souls which I have made." The soul is a portion of God from Above, and it exists beyond temporal reality. As long as we are in the body, we are bound by time, but after one hundred and twenty years, the soul exists beyond time. Consequently, the Holy One, Blessed be He, says: My wrath toward it and My concealment from it will not be for eternity (lanetzach) either. Thus we find: My contention with the body is not "forever" (le'olam), and My wrath toward the spiritual soul is not "for eternity" (lanetzach).
בַּעֲוֺן בִּצְעוֹ קָצַפְתִּי וְאַכֵּהוּ הַסְתֵּר וְאֶקְצֹף וַיֵּלֶךְ שׁוֹבָב בְּדֶרֶךְ לִבּוֹ׃ - For the iniquity of his unjust gain I was wrathful and struck him; I hid My face and was wrathful, yet he walked waywardly in the way of his heart.
The word betza generally denotes illicit gain or theft. The Holy One, Blessed be He, says: On account of the sin of robbery, I was initially wrathful and struck him, and subsequently, when he was afflicted, I concealed My face from his distress. All of this occurred because "he walked waywardly in the way of his heart" - deviating from the straight path to pursue the desires of his heart.
The Radak addresses a question here: The sin of robbery (chamas) is immense, so why does it not carry a penalty of death in Torah law? His answer is that all human beings, and even secular kingdoms, inherently enforce this on their own. There is no nation whose laws state that stealing is permissible; at most, there are places that turn a blind eye to theft, but for the law itself to permit robbery - there is no such thing. Since this is a law necessitated by the very fabric of human society, the Holy One, Blessed be He, did not deem it necessary to prescribe a capital punishment for it. However, when this sin spreads across the entire land, there is no choice but to bring a death sentence upon it. The classic example is the generation of the Flood: "for the earth was filled with robbery (chamas)" - there, no one was left to enforce the law, no one to ensure that such things would not happen, and thus wrath and terrible punishment became inescapable. This is the meaning of "For the iniquity of his unjust gain I was wrathful and struck him": I was compelled to strike because dishonest gain became a widespread plague, not merely the deed of individuals, but the corrupt gain of the collective. "Yet he walked waywardly" - he rebelled against Me and turned to idolatry according to the lust of his heart.
The Malbim explains that this verse is a direct continuation of the preceding one. Why "will I not be wrathful for eternity"? Because all the wrath was only "for the iniquity of his unjust gain," and consequently, when he repents, the cause for the wrath is removed. Wrath is merely the consequence of sin, and when there is no sin, there is no longer a reason for it.
The Malbim further notes: In a single verse, wrath is mentioned twice - "I was wrathful and struck him (katzafti ve'akeihu)" and also "I hid My face and was wrathful (haster ve'ektzof)." Both correspond to the two themes in the preceding verse. "I was wrathful and struck him" corresponds to "I will not contend forever (lo le'olam ariv)" - the affliction of the physical body, which occurs within the framework of time. "I hid My face and was wrathful" - at times, in a moment of anger, I conceal My face from them.
And which is harsher, the strike or the concealment? The concealment. Here it is fitting to mention the Malbim's wonderful explanation regarding Achav's defiance over who was greater, Yehoshua or Moshe - for Moshe said, "And the anger of Hashem will burn against you, and He will shut up the heavens so that there will be no rain," and yet we have rain! Seemingly, hester panim (the concealment of the Divine countenance) has an advantage: in hester panim, the Holy One, blessed be He, abandons us to nature, and if by the laws of nature goodness is due, goodness will come. Is it naturally a rainy year? Rain will fall. Not because we are worthy, but because Hashem concealed His countenance and cast us over to nature. Seemingly, this would be preferable to wrath that brings about a state in which there is no rain.
Yet the truth is quite the opposite, and concealment is far worse. When Hashem displays wrath, there is - in contemporary terms - dosage control: the fierce anger comes according to strict justice, and the Holy One, blessed be He, precisely controls the measure we receive, exactly matching the sin. But when Hashem conceals His countenance, it is terrifying beyond measure. "And I will surely conceal My face on that day" - I said I would not be there, and then "and they shall be devoured." The wrath can bring things to the brink of destruction, for I have delivered you into the hands of nature, and nature is such that every gentile nation hates the Jew, that every gentile nation would wish to set up extermination camps for Israel. To whoever asks where the Holy One, blessed be He, was during the Holocaust - He stated in advance that He would not be there! Certainly, there is an eternal promise and oath that the people of Israel will never be completely wiped out, and by virtue of that promise they will never be destroyed; yet within that framework, the fierce anger can be terrible and dreadful.
To what can this be compared? To a father striking his son - if he is a sensible father, he delivers a blow that the son can endure. But if a father throws his son out of the house, the son may suffer terrible and immense beatings outside, while the father, as it were, says: I am not here, manage on your own, I have concealed my face from you, you are already outside the home. Therefore, concealment is always far worse than wrath.
Nevertheless, the Holy One, blessed be He, says, even this concealment is only "for the iniquity of his unjust gain," on account of evil deeds. And at the end of the verse, the Malbim introduces a novel reading that flips the conventional plain meaning. We usually understand "and he went on waywardly in the way of his heart" to mean that he proceeded in a distorted and corrupt path. But the Malbim reads it as: When will the wrath subside? When "it shall go away" - when the waywardness with which he walked in the way of his heart departs and leaves him. As long as this waywardness has not departed from him and he remains caught in those corrupt ways, My wrath remains upon him; but once it turns away from him, I will neither strike him nor display wrath.
דְּרָכָיו רָאִיתִי וְאֶרְפָּאֵהוּ וְאַנְחֵהוּ וַאֲשַׁלֵּם נִחֻמִים לוֹ וְלַאֲבֵלָיו׃ - I have seen his ways, and I will heal him; I will lead him and restore comforts to him and to his mourners.
When I see that he has removed his crooked and corrupt ways from himself - "I have seen his ways and will heal him." Instead of "and I struck him" earlier, now "and I will heal him," for all the afflictions came only because of his corrupt ways. And instead of "I concealed My face and was wrathful" earlier, now "and I will lead him" - I will not conceal My face from him, but rather "My presence shall go, and I will give you rest," guiding him with the light of My countenance. The two parts of the promise correspond precisely to the two parts of the retribution.
"And restore comforts to him and to his mourners" - the sorrow experienced by him and by those who mourned with him in his tribulations, those who witnessed his suffering and lamented alongside him, will be transformed into comfort: I will comfort them and take away their deep grief when they see the goodness that comes upon him.
Radak interprets the verse from a different angle, returning to the fragile spiritual state of the people of Israel: "I have seen his ways" - I know his ways, that he is unable to remain steadfast in his righteousness for long. Even when they repent, a few years pass and they revert to their corrupt ways, as seen throughout the era of the Judges: Yavin comes upon them, then another oppressor, and then another, "and the land was tranquil for forty years" - and the cycle repeats. Since I have already struck him and exiled him for so long, I will turn back and heal him with spiritual healing. "And I will lead him" - I will guide him along a good path, meaning I will straighten his heart, for I saw that he walked waywardly in the way of his heart; now his heart will be more upright in the service of Hashem. And for all the troubles and afflictions he suffered in exile - "and restore comforts."
And who are "to him and to his mourners"? Our Sages taught: Whoever mourns over Jerusalem merits to see her comfort. Those who truly mourned over Jerusalem, who genuinely yearned for the complete redemption - "rejoice with her exceedingly, all you who mourn over her" - they are "his mourners," and them will the Holy One, blessed be He, comfort and gladden.
בּוֹרֵא נִיב שְׂפָתָיִם שָׁלוֹם שָׁלוֹם לָרָחוֹק וְלַקָּרוֹב אָמַר ה' וּרְפָאתִיו׃ - "Creator of the fruit of the lips: Peace, peace to the distant and to the near, says Hashem, and I will heal him."
Rashi explains: I am creating a new utterance of the lips for him. Until now, trouble came upon him and everyone challenged him - everyone waged war against him, with inflammatory speech and threats directed against the Jewish people; but from now on, there will be a new utterance of the lips. Niv (ניב) is related to tenuvah (produce or fruit): just as the produce of an orange tree is oranges, so too the produce of the lips is speech. From this comes the word navi (prophet), and from the same root: "new wine makes the maidens flourish (yenovev)." The fruit of the lips will no longer be talk of war and defiance, but rather "peace, peace."
And not peace like the kind spoken of nowadays - "Peace, peace, when there is no peace," "I am peace, but when I speak, they are for war." Not a peace where we speak of peace while they are busy digging tunnels, but true peace, "to the distant and to the near." According to Rashi, "the distant" refers to someone who has long been accustomed to My Torah and My service from his youth, while "the near" refers to someone who has recently drawn near to return to My service - and I will heal them all, both those from afar and those who were always close.
Radak follows a similar line: I will create a new utterance of the lips, in which war will no longer be the constant discourse with the people of Israel, but rather everyone will speak of peace. However, according to him, this refers to the period after the War of Gog and Magog. For as long as the War of Gog and Magog still lies ahead in the arsenal, one cannot say that the public discourse will be one of peace; therefore, this must refer to after the mother of all wars has ended. And who are the distant and near in his view? Those distant from Jerusalem and those near to Jerusalem - since the essence of the War of Gog and Magog is the gathering of all the armies against Jerusalem. "And I will heal him" - then there will be healing for the Jewish people, for as long as there are wars, healing cannot truly take place.
According to Rashi, then, "the distant" is one who from days of old, from time immemorial, has served Hashem, and "the near" is one who has drawn close just now. But in Chazal, as cited by Radak, there is a completely opposite interpretation: "distant" refers to those who were far away and have now begun to serve Hashem, while "near" refers to the righteous who have always been close to the Holy One, blessed be He. From this, Chazal derived that penitents (ba'alei teshuvah) are greater than the completely righteous (tzaddikim gemurim), as it says: "To the distant and to the near, says Hashem, and I will heal him" - whom does the Holy One, blessed be He, mention first? The distant one, meaning the one who was far away and drew close.
And the reason is well known: "In the place where ba'alei teshuvah stand, even the completely righteous cannot stand." Penitents struggle with things to which completely righteous individuals were never exposed, and the tzaddik does not possess the same arduous exertion required of the ba'al teshuvah - to erase his entire past, to break all his bad habits. This is extraordinarily difficult. The tzaddik, who has always lived in holiness and purity, does not have such struggles. Therefore, the first peace is offered to the distant, and only then to the near.
Rabbi Yaakov Galinsky ztz"l related: I was once invited to speak at a conference of scientists who had become ba'alei teshuvah. I noticed someone there with a long ponytail and a recording device. I asked who he was, and they told me: a journalist who came to interview one of the scientists - to find out what happened to him, what fuse blew, or perhaps if someone close to him had died. For according to the secular mindset, if a person becomes religious, he must have undergone some trauma; otherwise, why would he return to faith? Religion, in their view, is meant for outdated, unprogressive people; what business does a scientist have with faith? They told him: "The rabbi is about to speak now; sit and listen, and afterwards you can approach him."
I stood and spoke, though I do not know how much he understood. Afterward, he approached one of the scientists and began asking him questions, and out of curiosity, I leaned in to listen. That scientist asked him: "Tell me, who do you think will receive a greater reward in Heaven - me, or the charedi boy from Bnei Brak who grew up in a cheder and then went on to yeshivah, following the entire structured path of Torah and divine service?" I wanted to intervene and say: "What kind of question is that? Of course the ba'al teshuvah will receive far more, for he struggles against his entire past, exactly as we read - 'to the distant and to the near,' first to the distant; 'in the place where ba'alei teshuvah stand, even the completely righteous cannot stand.'" But he did not ask me; he asked the journalist. The journalist replied: "How should I know about such things?" He understands a paycheck, but heavenly reward is beyond his grasp. Still, he ventured: "Presumably, it seems you would receive more reward, because you have to struggle."
The scientist said to him: "I want you to know that the charedi boy from Bnei Brak will receive a far greater reward than I will, and I will tell you why. The world you inhabit - I lived there. And not just casually; I was an insider, plugged into the elite circle, right in the thick of the mire and the mud. I know that world inside and out: its filth and sordidness, its dog-eat-dog mentality, the reality where you could collapse in the street and no one would come near you. I know the endless chase after money, the fact that people have no meaningful purpose to get out of bed for in the morning. All the values the country once had at its founding - Zionism, aliyah, settling the land, the revival of the Jewish nation - have all vanished; post-Zionism erased everything. It is a world stripped of values, where for a hundred dollars people are ready to emigrate abroad, abandoning their suitcase of ideals to whoever chooses to remain and pay exorbitant taxes. All of that garbage, I know all too well."
He added: "Even if they were to tell me today that there is no mitzvah to be observant, and even if the Creator of the world were to decide that no reward is given for keeping mitzvos - one thing is completely clear to me: I am never going back to that world. But the charedi boy from Bnei Brak, the yeshivah student - the secular world still tempts him. He still imagines they have something to offer, something genuine to sell. When he sits in yeshivah, shielded from all the perils of the internet and all the filth and decay, he faces a genuine struggle, because he assumes the lusts and pleasures out there are genuinely fulfilling; he does not realize that they hollow you out. He will receive a far greater reward. Whereas I know that it is all vanity and refuse, and for me there is no temptation whatsoever: it is obvious to me that I fled a sinking, hole-riddled ship and reached a safe harbor; it is obvious to me that this is the right path, a world of true values, the reason one wakes up in the morning. For choosing this, I will hardly receive a reward. But one who still thinks they have something to offer - what an immense challenge he faces, and surely he will receive a magnificent reward!" Rabbi Yaakov Galinsky concluded: "I was astonished by his answer; I could not have offered a better or more perceptive reply myself - coming from someone who knew that world from the inside."
And with this, both approaches are reconciled. According to Chazal: first to the far and then to the near, for great are ba'alei teshuvah. And according to Rashi: sometimes specifically to the one from afar, who has served Hashem from of old - for his effort is sometimes greater, and the illusion of the yetzer hara that there is something to seek out there is stronger; whereas the newcomer who has just recently arrived knows that there is nothing out there, and consequently his struggle is lesser. Sometimes peace is granted to this one first, and sometimes to that one first.
וְהָרְשָׁעִים כַּיָּם נִגְרָשׁ כִּי הַשְׁקֵט לֹא יוּכָל וַיִּגְרְשׁוּ מֵימָיו רֶפֶשׁ וָטִיט׃ - But the wicked are like the driven sea, for it cannot rest, and its waters toss up mire and mud.
Let us begin with the Targum: "Ve-rashieya keyama detarich" - like the sea driven from place to place; "deva'i lemeiniach velo yachil" - which seeks to rest and cannot; "ve'avduhi mochi sayan vetin" - and its waters make sayan and tin, which are mire and mud. By the way, regarding Sephardim who sign "S"T" (ס"ט), some believe it stands for Sephardi Tahor ("pure Sephardi"), but that is an error. Its source is right here: sayin tin, mire and mud. A person wishing to write of himself that he is dust and ashes signs S"T - mire and mud.
Rashi explains: the wicked do not repent. Earlier we saw that the Holy One, blessed be He, calls upon people to repent - "Peace, peace to the far and to the near" - speaking both to those far and to those near to return before Him; yet the wicked do not repent. And why are they compared to a driven sea? The waves, as it were, seek to break out and exceed their boundary - "and He placed a boundary for the sea." The wave reaches the breakwater or the shore, breaks, shatters, and recedes; then another wave arrives, breaks, and recedes. Notice: the next wave sees what became of the wave before it, yet this does not deter it, and it still rushes forward only to be broken as well. In the same way, the wicked person sees his fellow struck down for his wickedness, yet he does not turn back.
And how relevant this is to reality! Every new villain arises and imagines that he will succeed. Do you not read history? No nation has ever succeeded in destroying the Jewish people; all the nations that sought to destroy us were wiped out from the skies of history and lie in its garbage bin, while the Jewish people endure forever. Does this cause any nation to think twice? Does this lead Iran to think twice before speaking of destroying the Jewish people? Another wave and another wave crashes forward, again and again. So too here at home: time and again, political parties have arisen that inscribed hatred on their banners - hatred of Judaism, drafting yeshivah students, subduing the Charedim - and all of them ended up in the dustbin of history. No party that championed hatred and waged war against Hashem has ever lasted; they arise with great fanfare, garner votes, and evaporate. Yet even so, this never deters new ones from rising up again and again.
And why? "For it cannot rest" - the yetzer hara within gives the wicked person no peace. Even when he sees what befell his predecessors, it does not give him pause, because that urge churns inside him and will not let him be.
Chazal expounded: as for the sea, its mire and its stench are upon its edge ("mouth"). Where is the stench of the sea found? On the shore. Any refuse or garbage in the sea is cast out by the sea onto the shore; a corpse in the sea, Heaven forbid, is washed up onto the shore. So it is with the wicked - their stench is in their mouth. Pharaoh said, "Who is Hashem that I should heed His voice?" Sancheiriv said, "Who among all the gods of the lands..." Nevuchadnezzar said, "I will match the Most High." Their mouths are foul; they all open their mouths wide against the Master of the World. Just as the sea casts out mire and mud from its waters, so do they expel mire and mud from their inward parts through their mouths.
אֵין שָׁלוֹם אָמַר אֱלֹהַי לָרְשָׁעִים׃ - There is no peace, said my God, for the wicked.
Radak explains that the verse "But the wicked are like the driven sea" comes as an explanation of the preceding verses. It was said, "He creates the utterance of the lips: Peace, peace to the far and to the near... and I will heal him," and healing was promised to one who had been far and repented and drew near. But as for the wicked, there is no talking to them. They are like a driven sea and do not repent, and therefore "There is no peace, said my God, for the wicked" - what I said earlier, "Peace, peace," was not intended for them. Those who acted wickedly and magnified wrongdoing are not included.
And just as we ask in prayer: "And for the heretics and the informers let there be no hope... and may all the willful sinners perish in an instant." Why do we not pray that they repent? Because there is a stage at which it is known that such a person will no longer merit to repent. It is told of the Chofetz Chaim that a student once spoke insolently to the matron who oversaw the dormitory affairs, and the Chofetz Chaim expelled him from the yeshivah. When asked why, he replied: brazenness - under no circumstances. They said to him: perhaps he will repent? He said: he will not repent. They asked: from where does the Rosh Yeshivah know this? He replied: because it is written, "The brazen-faced is destined for Gehinnom" - and if he were to repent, it should have said, "The brazen-faced is destined for repentance." And it is striking to discover that this is an explicit Midrash: Rav Yehudah said, the brazen-faced is destined for Gehinnom, because it is known that a brazen-faced person does not repent. From someone who possesses brazenness - do not expect repentance.
Regarding these wicked people it is said: "There is no peace, said my God, to the wicked" - consequently, they will not repent and will ultimately perish, as Malachi prophesied: "And all the willful sinners and all evildoers shall be like stubble, and the coming day shall burn them." And what does "like the troubled sea" mean? Just as the sea churns incessantly toward its shore, so too the wicked find no rest from the turmoil of the world until they die. The wicked man has no rest: constantly shifting, constantly in motion, constantly harboring thoughts of how to commit further wickedness, which lust he has not yet tasted, which deed he has not yet performed. And until when? Until the day of death, as it says in Iyov: "There the wicked cease from raging" - all this endless movement and infinite calculation of how to do evil ceases only when he reaches the World of Truth.
The Malbim explains why the wicked do not repent and why "it cannot rest": because everything he has seen and everything he has done conjures up images in his heart. A person once came to a tzaddik and said: Rebbe, improper thoughts constantly arise in my mind during prayer. The tzaddik asked: what kind of thoughts? He replied: all kinds of images and inappropriate things that I have seen. The tzaddik said to him: the question is not why they come during prayer, but why you looked at them in the first place, allowing them to return to you later in prayer. If a person was immersed in mud and mire, he should not be surprised when he seeks to wash himself and finds the water murky; why is it murky? Because of the mud and mire. The wicked, who spend their entire lives in evil, cannot rest, because their hearts constantly conjure up foul imagery from everything they engaged in and from all the negative thoughts that enveloped them.
It has often been pointed out that repenting superficially is very easy - beginning to put on tefillin, beginning to keep Shabbat. That is the simple part. The difficult part is erasing from the hard drive, from memory, the entire past - the past patterns of behavior. In the past, when someone angered you, you reacted in a certain way; have you managed today to transform yourself so that your reaction is different? That is not simple at all. Many baalei teshuvah alter their external actions without refining their character traits, primarily because they do not study Torah. The difference between a baal teshuvah who attends Torah classes and one who does not is plainly evident. When a person attends Torah classes, he realizes that real change cannot be cosmetic. With a kippah or without a kippah, with a beard or without a beard - that is straightforward. The harder task is transforming one's middot: one's treatment of his wife, his attitude toward his relatives, his manner of speech and phrasing, his innermost feelings. Someone who spent his whole life swaggering with an aggressive tough-guy attitude must begin to understand that a person is required to possess humility and modesty. Inner change demands labor, and few people like to work hard; it is convenient to make easy changes, swap the outer shell, and remain inside precisely the same person.
And this is what Scripture means: the wicked are like the troubled sea, because the tempest still rages within them. That same spirit in which they saw all they saw and did all they did still leaves its mark, yet they take no action to overcome it and introduce no new spiritual content. Go to Torah classes, study mussar, introduce new substance - when holiness enters, the mundane naturally departs; this is an absolute rule, and there are no shortcuts. The way to expel the mundane is by introducing holiness. But when, instead, a person continues consuming the very same things he consumed before - media and all kinds of material to which he remains umbilical-cord linked - you see that no real transformation has taken place. This has aptly been described: there are people who are secularists wearing a kippah. In their essence, in their entire conduct, they have remained secular, except that now they also wear a kippah. And sometimes this is even worse, as people say: did you see how that religious man behaves? Did you see how he talks, how he lost his temper? My friend, you do not realize that he has undergone a whole process; you do not know that five years ago he might have struck you down, whereas today he merely became angry with you. There is no desire to fault them - clearly a person has experienced much in life and is undergoing complex processes - but one must know that this is the primary point: how much a person actually transforms. Not how many sessions of solitary meditation (hitbodedut) one did - that is wonderful, good, and fine - but how many Torah classes one attended, how much Torah one absorbed in order to flush out all the mud and mire.
Therefore, the Holy One, blessed be He, declares: concerning the righteous and the genuine penitents - "Peace, peace, to him who is far and to him who is near"; and concerning the wicked - "There is no peace, said my God, to the wicked." And just as there is no peace in their spirit, since their spirit constantly yearns within them for every kind of sin, so too there is no peace in anything they possess.
And in conclusion, a note regarding the text of the verse: there is a widespread popular misquotation, "There is no peace, said Hashem, to the wicked," and the Minchat Shai already pointed out that this is an absolute distortion and a complete mistake. Nowhere in Scripture does the phrase "There is no peace, said Hashem" appear; rather, it is always "said my God" (amar Elohai), and he even explains where this error originated. The true, correct reading is: "There is no peace, said my God, to the wicked."
The conclusion of the chapter teaches that Divine wrath is limited: "not forever" - with respect to the body existing within time, and "not for eternity" - with respect to the soul that transcends time, for all wrath is merely "for the iniquity of his unjust gain," and when the waywardness ceases, the wrath will cease as well. In place of the blow will come healing, and in place of the concealment of the Divine face will come guidance in the light of His countenance, bringing consolation to him and to his fellow mourners. Then a new fruit of the lips will be created, offering peace to the far and to the near - whether to the baal teshuvah who drew near or to the tzaddik who was near all along. Yet the wicked person who refuses to repent is compared to a troubled sea: he learns nothing from the wave before him, he finds no rest, and his mire rises to the surface - and regarding him it is said, "There is no peace, said my God, to the wicked." The true spiritual work does not lie in superficial change, but in transforming the interior: introducing holiness to expel the mundane. May Hashem grant us, and all who have strayed, the merit to return to Him in complete repentance, Amen and Amen.