An Example of My Idiosyncratic Brand of Spirituality

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by Naomi Mann in honor of Rabbi Moskowitz zt"l, whose shloshim is this week.

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Artwork: Golden Hind, by Cyril Van Der Haegen

An Example of My Idiosyncratic Brand of Spirituality

This past Friday I made my annual summer pilgrimage back to the Pacific Northwest. After waking up super early on Shabbos morning, I decided to daven at home. I was in the middle of saying my post-shacharis Ashrei when something stirred in my peripheral vision. I turned and – behold! – outside the picture window, not 15 feet away, stood a baby deer, munching on leaves from a tree in the front yard. When I moved closer, the deer froze and looked sharply in my direction, whereupon we made prolonged motionless eye contact for what felt like a full minute. Once the deer perceived that I wasn’t a threat, it continued eating and I resumed my recitation of Ashrei while watching it eat.

It then dawned on me that the contents of the pesukim I was reciting were unfolding before me in real time: “All eyes [look] towards You with hope, and You give them their food in its time. You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing” (Tehilim 145:15-16). My mind went to the Radak’s explanation, which I had taught earlier this year:

"All eyes [look] towards You with hope": Likewise, he said: "all [the animals] hope towards You" (ibid. 104:27), for You created all the earthly creatures and You created their food - some eat grass, some eat seeds, and some eat other animals - and their eyes all depend on You and hope towards You, "and You give them their food in its time" through the chain of causality [in nature]. He said "in its time" in the singular because each and every species has its own time when its food comes about. He said "they hope towards You" [because] even though [these animals] lack knowledge, they instinctively yearn for their fixed portion that is given to them, and we [humans] are the ones who know that their hope is towards You, for You are the One Who prepares and provides.

I’ve recited these pesukim three times a day for as long as I’ve been Jewish, but it wasn’t until that moment that I felt like I was actually praising Hashem. I felt close to Hashem, as described towards the end of Ashrei: “Hashem is close to all who call Him, to all who call Him in truth,” which the Radak explains to mean, “with mouth and heart-mind [1] in harmony.”

This experience was amplified by the fact that it was Shabbos, a day about which the psalmist writes: “For You have gladdened me, Hashem, with Your deed; about Your handiwork I will sing joyously. How great are Your works, Hashem; [how] very deep are Your thoughts!” (Tehilim 92:5-6). Radak explains:

“For You have gladdened me” – On the Shabbos day You have gladdened me in my contemplation of “Your deed” and “Your handiwork,” which is the world and everything in it. On the Shabbos day, when I am able to contemplate, then I will rejoice. This is a reference to the natural sciences. When I contemplate [science] and apprehend through it whatever I apprehend, I will rejoice and sing joyously with my heart-mind. And since each thinker contemplates the work of God [with his own heart-mind], therefore he said, “You have gladdened me … I will sing joyously,” in the singular.

There are many models of spirituality [2] within Judaism: the ecstatic religiosity of Hasidism, the mystical practices of Kabbalah, the existentialist yearnings of Rav Soloveitchik, and much, much more. To each their own. As for me, in these recent years I have found great fulfillment in my ongoing (re)discovery and (re)cultivation of an intellectual-emotional spirituality grounded in Sefer Tehillim, as elucidated by the philosophical Rishonim (i.e. Radak, Meiri, Sforno) within the framework of the Rambam’s approach to Torah. An explanation of what this entails is beyond the scope of this article. But if the experience I described above resonates with you, then I encourage you to learn Tehilim towards this end.

[1] The Hebrew word “lev” can mean “heart,” “mind,” or both, depending on the context. I recently heard Tara Brach use the term “heartmind,” and although it’s awkward to use a made up term, it really does capture the sense of the Hebrew.

[2] In my fiery youth, I used to privately refer to the term “spirituality” as “the s-word.” It’s not that I objected to the concept itself. Rather, I objected to its typically vague usage across the entire spectrum of religiosity. That's why I avoid it ... except in this article.

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Bruce Lee’s Oak and the Success of Evil

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Bruce Lee's Oak and the Success of Evil 

Bruce Lee taught: “The oak tree is mighty, yet it will be destroyed by a mighty wind because it resists the elements; the bamboo bends with the wind, and by bending, survives.” This is the foundation of Jeet Kune Do, Bruce Lee’s approach to martial arts and to life, the motto of which is: “Using no way as way; having no limitation as limitation.” Instead of clinging to a fixed set of techniques and rules, naively believing they will guarantee success in every situation, the true martial artist is fluid “like water,” constantly adapting and responding to the dynamism of combat without any rigidity or imposition of systems.

This afternoon I was thinking about a number of people – people I’ve met, as well as famous figures I haven’t met – who were both rigid and highly successful, and were successful precisely because of their single-minded rigidity! I’m talking about people like Steve Jobs, Douglas MacArthur, Robert Moses, etc.

This led me to notice a nuance in this particular version of Bruce Lee’s statement: “The oak tree is mighty, yet it will be destroyed by a mighty wind because it resists the elements; the bamboo bends with the wind, and by bending, survives.” The oak tree is described as “mighty,” but the bamboo is not. The quality that makes the oak tree mighty is the same quality that guarantees its destruction; the quality that precludes “might” in the bamboo is what guarantees its long life.

This, in turn, led me to an epiphany about tzadikim (righteous people) and resha’im (wicked people). There are many pesukim (verses) in Sefer Tehilim (The Book of Psalms) and Sefer Mishlei (The Book of Proverbs) which compare the short-term success of resha’im with the long-term flourishing of tzadikim. For example: “when the wicked bloom like grass, and all the doers of iniquity blossom, it is to destroy them forever and ever” (Tehilim 92:8) is contrasted with: “A righteous person will flourish like a date palm, and like a cedar in the Lebanon he will grow tall. Planted in the house of Hashem, in the courtyards of our God they will flourish. They will still be fruitful in old age, vigorous and fresh they will be” (ibid. 92:13-15).

The rasha (wicked person) seeks to forcibly impose an artificial, ambitious, self-serving system onto reality with the goal of attaining absolute power and greatness at any cost. A basic tenet of Mishlei and Tehilim is that such an individual is destined to fail for the same reasons that Bruce Lee stated: the more tenaciously the rasha clings to his self-aggrandizing schemes, the more inevitable and more catastrophic will be his downfall. It’s only a matter of time before his plans clash with reality, and reality always wins.

My insight into Bruce Lee’s quotation added a new dimension to my understanding of this phenomenon. I had previously focused on the fact that the "oak tree"-like rasha “will be destroyed by a mighty wind because he resists the elements,” but the “oak tree”-rasha “is mighty.” In other words, the rasha will attain great success and strength because of his wickedness. Look no further than Hitler, Mussolini, Saddam Hussein, and the other great resha’im throughout history. It is true that reality eventually caught up with them and destroyed them, but see how mighty they became up until their downfall! Thus, when we see resha’im enjoying great success, not only should we view this as a sign of their impending collapse, but we must also recognize that they have purchased a superlative level of success by paying the price of ultimate self-destruction.

This also sheds a new light on the type of success we can expect to see from tzadikim. The tzadik will not be mighty like the rasha. Rather, his success will be his steady flourishing and bamboo-like endurance.

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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle/Chase QuickPay and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you. 

If you would like to sponsor an article, shiur, or podcast episode, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone. 

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast", "The Stoic Jew" Podcast, "Rambam Bekius" Podcast, "Machshavah Lab" Podcast, "The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here. 

How TO and How NOT To Apply Tehilim to Your Life

This is a Tehilim methodology post. Although it can be read on its own, you will gain more out of it if you have read my guide on How to Learn Tehilim.

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How TO and How NOT To Apply Tehilim to Your Life

A former student of mine recently attended a class on Tehilim (Psalms). The source sheet for this class included a short paragraph of advice for "how to say Tehilim with more meaning" based on the writings of a certain well-known rabbi. I'm not going to name the source because I don't want anyone to be biased on account of the author's identity. The source sheet said:

Regarding the saying of Tehillim, [Rabbi Ploni] told a student that the main thing is to say the verses directed to one's own life, to apply the messages of the verses to one's own experiences. He further explained that in all the wars which Dovid HaMelech asked Hashem to grant him success, a person should interpret it as relating to his own wars with the yetzer ha'ra (evil inclination).

My student wanted to know what I thought of this rabbi's advice.

Before I share my response, I think it would behoove us to review the Sefer ha'Chinuch's explanation of the practice of "saying Tehilim," as he writes in his explanation of Mitzvah #512, and which I referenced in my post How to Say Tehilim for the Sick Without Violating Halacha. In my learning experience I have found this to be the most eloquent Rishonic statement on what Tehilim is for, and how it ought to be used. The Sefer ha'Chinuch writes:

[These] psalms contain words that inspire the soul that knows them to shelter in Hashem, to take security in Him, to establish a reverent fear of Him firmly in his heart, and to rely on His kindness and goodness; as a result of this inspiration, he will be protected from every harm, without a doubt.

In other words, the process involves three steps: (1) learn the pesukim with the goal of understanding their ideational content, (2) read them and recite them with these ideas in mind in order to inspire yourself and strengthen your relationship with Hashem, (3) as a result, you will be protected from harm, in accordance with your level of closeness to Hashem.

Now that we've reviewed the basic idea of what it means to say Tehilim, here is my response to my student's question about Rabbi Ploni's advice.

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I have mixed thoughts about the methodology cited in [source text]. On the one hand, I agree that if a person learns Tehilim without applying it to his or her life, then he or she is missing out on the essential purpose of the sefer, which is to improve our relationship with Hashem. 

On the other hand, I am wary of the advice "to say the verses directed to one's own life, to apply the messages of the verses to one's own experiences." If this is done after a person learns the perek - or at least those specific pesukim - then that's great, but if a person merely reads through the pesukim and selects those which feel like they apply to their own life, then they run the risk of merely projecting their own emotions and psychological issues onto the words of David ha'Melech, without actually accessing the ideas that David intended to convey.

For instance, let's say someone is feeling dejected or in a state of suffering. She takes Sefer Tehilim and flips through the pages trying to find something that she feels applies to her own situation. She finds Tehilim 22, which famously opens with the line, “My God, my God – why have You abandoned me? You are far from my salvation at the word of my cry!” This pasuk resonates with her. She recites it with passion, pouring out her heart in crying out to a God that she feels has abandoned her in her time of need.

But unless she has learned through the perek as a whole, in a comprehensive and intellectually honest manner, how does she know whether this pasuk has anything to do with her personal situation? Maybe God hasn’t abandoned her. Maybe she’s just seeking Him incorrectly. Even worse: maybe by “blaming” God for something that’s her fault and not His, she is only distancing Him from herself even more. And what is her understanding of God being “close” or “far,” in general? Maybe the metric she’s using to assess God’s "distance" from her is totally incorrect. Maybe, in her mind, if she davens for something and doesn't get what she wants, then that means God has abandoned her - a view which we know to be false. And how does she even know that this perek is about a person such as herself? Maybe this is David ha’Melech who was making reference to the specific hashgachic  (providential) relationship that Hashem had with him, and to tzadikim who are on his level. Maybe, as Chazal suggest, this is Esther, who was reaching out to Hashem from her position of leadership and responsibility in saving Klal Yisrael (the Jewish People) from Haman’s plot. Maybe, as some of the meforshim (commentators) suggest, this perek isn’t even about an individual being abandoned by God, but it’s about Klal Yisrael as a whole in galus (exile). 

But if our hypothetical Tehilim reciter doesn’t bother to search for true answers to these questions – or doesn’t even ask them in the first place – then all she’ll be doing is using David ha’Melech’s words as an echo-chamber for her own emotional issues. If that's all she's doing, then perhaps she’d be better off reciting poetry or song lyrics, rather than distorting words of ruach ha’kodesh (divine inspiration) through the prism of her own subjective psyche.

I also have problems with the second part of [Rabbi Ploni's] advice. Yes, a person should view the struggle with the yetzer ha’ra as a war. Chazal used this mashal (metaphor), and it’s a good one, since the yetzer ha’ra is a cunning foe, and constant vigilance is a necessity if one hopes to avoid defeat. But to read all of David ha’Melech’s requests as relating to your own battles with your yetzer ha’ra seems to be intellectually irresponsible, and can easily lend itself to just making up our own "ideas" and treating them as David ha’Melech’s wisdom.

Consider, for example, the following pesukim from Tehilim Perek 3:

Hashem, how numerous are my enemies! There are many who rise up against me. Many are those who say of my soul, “There is no help for him in God,” Selah. But You, Hashem, are a shield for me; my glory, and the one who raises up my head. I will cry out to Hashem with my voice and He will answer me from His holy mountain, Selah. I laid down and slept; I awoke, for Hashem sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people who have set themselves around me. Arise, Hashem! Save me, my God, for You have struck all my enemies on the cheek bone; you have broken the teeth of the wicked. Salvation belongs to Hashem; Your blessing is upon Your people, Selah.

On the surface, it would seem feasible to read the yetzer ha’ra mashal into these pesukim. "Hashem, how numerous are my enemies! There are many who rise up against me" can be interpreted as: "There are numerous yetzer ha’ra temptations all around." "Many are those who say of my soul, 'There is no help for him in God,' Selah" can be read as: "The yetzer ha’ra causes us to doubt that Hashem can help us." "But You, Hashem, are a shield for me; my glory, and the one who raises up my head" can be taken to mean: "Hashem acts as a shield against the yetzer ha’ra." And so on. 

But take note of the introductory pasuk of this perek:

A psalm of David, when he fled from Avshalom, his son.

This perek was written by David about a specific conflict he faced with his son Avshalom, which is spelled out in Shmuel II, and he intended the words of this perek to be understood within that specific context. Sure, the insights one gains from this perek can be applied to a broader set of situations – otherwise, David wouldn’t have recorded these words for us – but his introductory pasuk clearly indicates that he held that the content of the perek should be interpreted in light of the specific situation for which he wrote it.

So if [Rabbi Ploni] wants to takes those words out of the author’s specified context, advising us to “treat this as being about your own battle with your yetzer ha’ra,” is that really an intellectually honest approach? Is it any different than, say, taking a chemistry textbook and interpreting the various statements about chemical reactions a mashal for how our yetzer ha’ra reacts when we do aveiros (transgressions), or taking a cookbook and treating the recipes as a mashal for “the ingredients” of a successful avodas Hashem? 

You might find these examples laughable, but I’ve chosen them for a reason. Apparently, there were groups of Chasidim or Baalei Mussar who held that the masechtos (tractates) in Nezikin which deal with the laws of damages should be interpreted as a mashal for how to handle the “damage” of the yetzer ha’ra. For example, the laws governing the case of an ox goring a cow should be treated as a mashal for the strategies that the yetzer ha'ra uses to cause damage to the neshamah. To my mind, this is worse than intellectual dishonesty. It’s just foolishness.

So, to sum it up: Tehilim will definitely be more meaningful if you apply it to your own life, but only after doing your due diligence as a student of Torah by attempting to learn and understand the Tehilim you recite before you recite them. If you skip this critical step and simply choose pesukim that resonate with you on a purely emotional level, you run the risk of projecting your own flawed understanding and psychological baggage onto the text, which will stunt the development of your relationship with Hashem. As for the metaphorical readings of David's wars: my advice is to stick to the pshat, and learn your strategies for waging war with the yetzer ha'ra from the pesukim in which David ha'Melech explicitly addresses this subject.

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I realize that the problems I've outlined here are not unique to Tehilim. They apply in a similar way to the text of tefilah (prayer). In truth, it is possible for a person to read whatever he wants into whatever text he wants, as I pointed out earlier in the example of those who read Nezikin allegorically. But in my opinion, there is a unique danger in making this error with regards to texts which are regularly recited in a "ritual manner" (for lack of a better term) as a means of drawing closer to Hashem.

Nearly 20 years ago, shortly after I converted to Judaism, my brother and I found ourselves at a Chabad house on the island of Oahu. This was back before Chabad had a regular minyan on the island. Sure enough, we were recruited for a minyan. The Chabad administrator who was in charge of coordinating the minyan had a chauffeur who drove us around. She was a native Hawaiian woman in her late fifties or early sixties. I don't know whether she just worked for Chabad, or whether she was in the process of conversion, or whether she was Jewish.

All I remember is that whenever we had downtime, she would pull out a small sefer (or maybe it was even a pamphlet?) and start chanting a single pasuk from Tehilim. If memory serves, the pasuk was "Adonoi hoshia, ha'Melech yaaneinu b'yom kareinu" (Tehilim 20:10). And when I say "chanting" I mean rhythmically and ritualistically, like a mantra - over, and over, and over, and over. Had I asked her what she was doing, I don't know whether she'd say that she's davening, or utilizing a segulah ("folk charm"), or if she even had an idea of what she was doing. It was the single-minded fervor with which she was saying her mantra that struck me.

Let's assume that this woman knew the English translation of what she was saying: "My Lord, save! May the King answer us on the day we call." If this woman had even a basic comprehension of what she was saying - a recognition that Hashem is able to save, or that salvation belongs to Him, or that He responds to our prayers, or that He is our true king - then this woman's recitation might actually strengthen her relationship with Hashem by "inspiring her soul" in a positive direction, as the Sefer ha'Chinuch explained.

But what if this woman harbored a fundamentally distorted understanding? What if she believed that her recitation invoked an emotion of pity in God? What if she believed that she was praying to an angel as an intercessor between herself and God? What if she, like many native Hawaiians, still clung to her polytheistic beliefs, and had somehow amalgamated them into her practice of this new "ritual"? If any of these scenarios were the case, then her fervent devotion to Tehilim would have an equal but opposite effect, propelling her away from Hashem into the grips of avodah zarah. 

My point in sharing this anecdote is this: Tehilim is a powerful tool. When used properly, it can fortify and elevate the soul of the one who recites it. When used improperly, it can hinder our spiritual development, or even lead us astray. 

Is a Rasha "Evil"?

Originally published in February of 2012. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Is a Rasha "Evil"?

Disclaimer: When I began my original blog in 2007, I intended it to be a venue not only to present "finished" ideas, but to explore developing ideas. Over time I became pressured into only posting ideas I had fully polished. Ultimately, this pressure deterred me from blogging altogether. In an attempt to rekindle the spirit of that blog, I am going to try to be more forthcoming in writing about ideas that I am currently in the process of exploring. Please bear that in mind as you read this post. 

If I asked you to translate the root R.SH.A' (ר.ש.ע) you'd probably translate it as "evil" or "wicked." Likewise, if I asked you translate the word rasha, you'd probably translate it as "evildoer" or "wicked person" something like that. I know I would.

Well, it's time to open our minds to a new and radical definition of "rasha."

The first pasuk of the first chapter of Tehilim states: 

תהלים א:א

אַשְׁרֵי הָאִישׁ אֲשֶׁר לֹא הָלַךְ בַּעֲצַת רְשָׁעִים וּבְדֶרֶךְ חַטָּאִים לֹא עָמָד וּבְמוֹשַׁב לֵצִים לֹא יָשָׁב:

Tehilim 1:1
Happy is the man who does not follow the advice of resha'im (wicked), and who does not stand on the path of chatoim (sinners), and does not sit in a session of leitzim (scoffers).

Ibn Ezra notes that there is a machlokess (disagreement) among the commentaries as to the "badness order" of the three types of people mentioned in the pasuk: 

Our Early Sages of blessed memory said that "standing on the path of chatoim" is a greater transgression than "following the advice of resha'im" and that "sitting in the session of leitzim" is worse than either "standing on the path of chatoim" or "following [the advice of resha'im]." Now if this is so, then leitzim are worse than chatoim. Rabbi Moshe ha'Kohen says the reverse (i.e. the pasuk begins with the most severe offense and concludes with the least severe). 

Ibn Ezra sides with the Sages. On the surface, this presents us with a difficulty: How can rasha be the least bad out of the three? Doesn't the term "rasha" refer to an "evil" person, and isn't "evil" the "baddest" out of all types of badness?

Ibn Ezra answers this question by deploying his bomb of a definition. He writes:

According to my opinion, the word "resha'im" refers to people who are in a constant state of flux, [1] in the sense of: "the reshaim are like the troubled sea, incapable of rest" (Yeshayahu 57:20). Likewise, "wherever he turned himself, he unsettled them (ירשיע)" (Shmuel I 14:47) and "He grants quietude, and who can agitate (ירשיע)?" (Iyov 34:29). For this reason it says "follow" in conjunction with resha'im, referring to a person who is seduced to follow the counsel of the rasha to a path he doesn't know.

Allow me to reiterate that revolutionary definition. According to Ibn Ezra, "rasha" does not mean "evil" but rather "troubled," "unsettled," "agitated," "restless," and "inconsistent" - a definition which he derives this from the etymology of the root R.SH.A'. And remember, if there's one Rishon whose etymological credentials are beyond reproach and whose lexical convictions are strong, it's the Ibn Ezra.

After stumbling upon this definition I wondered: "Maybe Ibn Ezra is only defining rasha this way in this context. Perhaps he uses a more traditional definition elsewhere?" In an effort to find the answer I conducted a search using the Bar-Ilan Responsa database to see if he elaborates on this definition elsewhere. I searched for all instances of the shoresh R.SH.A' in the commentaries of the Ibn Ezra and scanned through all 200+ of them to see all the places where Ibn Ezra explicitly defines the meaning of the term, as he does in Tehilim. [1] I found only three instances in which he gives somewhat of an explicit definition, as he does here:

• "There the resha'im cease from agitation" (Iyov 3:16). Ibn Ezra, commenting on the phrase "there the resha'im," explains that this refers to "those who are restless (הם המתנועעים)." 
• "Do not be overly rasha (אל תרשיע הרבה) nor be a fool. Why die before your time?" (Koheles 7:17). Ibn Ezra explains: "Since too much resha brings a person into danger, he says, 'Why die before your time?' Know that this rish'us (רשעות) refers to involvement in worldly matters. He says: Be involved in what is necessary for you, and do not be a fool at all, since foolishness leads to premature death." 
• "Man is powerless over the spirit - to restrain the spirit; nor is there authority over the day of death; nor discharge in war; and resha cannot save the wrongdoer" (ibid. 8:8). Ibn Ezra explains: "The meaning of 'resha' is 'abundance of restlessness and conflict' (רוב התנועה והניצוח)." 

Unfortunately, Ibn Ezra doesn't give us much to work with. Here are the qualities we have seen so far from the Ibn Ezra's comments and from the pesukim themselves:

1. the rasha is like the stormy sea, incapable of tranquility (Ibn Ezra on Tehilim 1:1, Yeshayahu 57:20, and Iyov 3:16)
2. the rasha does not follow a consistent pattern of behavior (Ibn Ezra on Tehilim 1:1)
3. the rasha's turmoil is related to his preoccupation with worldly matters - specifically, the fact that he is not content with meeting his needs in moderation (Ibn Ezra on Koheles 7:17)
4. the rasha is fraught with restlessness and conflict (Ibn Ezra on Koheles 8:8)
5. the rasha is like chaff, driven away by a gust of wind (rest of Tehilim 1)

Based on these qualities, I would like to propose a hypothesis: according to the Ibn Ezra, "rasha" refers to a person whose actions are primarily determined by his emotional reactions to the circumstances in which he finds himself. 

Yes, I am aware that most people can be described this way - but that's a question on Ibn Ezra, not on me. And yes, I am aware that this broadens the definition of the term "rasha" way beyond the conventional usage - but that, too, is a question on the Ibn Ezra. Besides, neither of these questions poses an actual problem with the Ibn Ezra's definition. They just underscore the fact that this idea is not in line with our prior ideas about reshaim.

I'll end this post by reiterating what I said in my disclaimer. This post is intended to be a first step - not an authoritative proclamation of the Ibn Ezra's view. In order to fully understand the Ibn Ezra's definition of rasha, we would need to learn through each of the 200+ instances in depth and in context. Nevertheless, we have to start somewhere, and the Ibn Ezra's definition in our pasuk in Tehilim is a good lead, especially when combined with the three aforementioned sources in which the Ibn Ezra reiterates a similar definition. Whether this concept of rasha can be developed further remains to be seen.

[1] lit. "those who do not persist in a consistent mode [of behavior]." I've chosen to go with H. Norman Strickman's translation, since I think it better captures the connotation of the Ibn Ezra's definition.

[2] Note that this post was written in 2012. When editing it for republication I didn't go back and search a second time, and although it's possible that newer sources were added, I'm going to rely on my original search for now.

Tehilim 146: Do Not Trust in Noble Benefactors

This can be read as a standalone post, but is also a follow-up to How to Learn Tehilim (Psalms), which I recommend reading first if you haven't already done so.

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Artwork: Noble Benefactor, by DiTerlizzi
(note that the word nedivim can be translated as "nobles," "benefactors," or "generous people"

Tehilim 146: Do Not Trust in Noble Benefactors

תהלים פרק קמו

(א) הַלְלוּיָהּ הַלְלִי נַפְשִׁי אֶת יְיָ: (ב) אֲהַלְלָה יְיָ בְּחַיָּי אֲזַמְּרָה לֵאלֹהַי בְּעוֹדִי: (ג) אַל תִּבְטְחוּ בִנְדִיבִים בְּבֶן אָדָם שֶׁאֵין לוֹ תְשׁוּעָה: (ד) תֵּצֵא רוּחוֹ יָשֻׁב לְאַדְמָתוֹ בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא אָבְדוּ עֶשְׁתֹּנֹתָיו: (ה) אַשְׁרֵי שֶׁאֵל יַעֲקֹב בְּעֶזְרוֹ שִׂבְרוֹ עַל יְיָ אֱלֹהָיו: (ו) עֹשֶׂה שָׁמַיִם וָאָרֶץ אֶת הַיָּם וְאֶת כָּל אֲשֶׁר בָּם הַשֹּׁמֵר אֱמֶת לְעוֹלָם: (ז) עֹשֶׂה מִשְׁפָּט לַעֲשׁוּקִים נֹתֵן לֶחֶם לָרְעֵבִים יְיָ מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים: (ח) יְיָ פֹּקֵחַ עִוְרִים יְיָ זֹקֵף כְּפוּפִים יְיָ אֹהֵב צַדִּיקִים: (ט) יְיָ שֹׁמֵר אֶת גֵּרִים יָתוֹם וְאַלְמָנָה יְעוֹדֵד וְדֶרֶךְ רְשָׁעִים יְעַוֵּת: (י) יִמְלֹךְ יְיָ לְעוֹלָם אֱלֹהַיִךְ צִיּוֹן לְדֹר וָדֹר הַלְלוּיָהּ:

Here is the text of Tehilim 146, which we say every morning after Ashrei:

(1) Halleluyah, praise Hashem, O my soul! (2) I will praise Hashem during my lifetime; I will sing to my God while I am still [alive]: (3) "Do not trust in noble benefactors - in a human being, for he holds no salvation. (4) His spirit will depart; he will return to his earth; on that day his plans will perish. (5) Happy is the one whose help is the God of Jacob; his hope is on Hashem, his God. (6) He is the maker of the heavens and the earth, the sea and everything that is in it, Who guards truth forever. (7) He does justice for the exploited, He gives bread to the hungry, Hashem releases the bound, (8) Hashem gives sight to the blind, Hashem straightens the bent, Hashem loves the righteous, (9) Hashem guards strangers, He encourages the orphan and the widow, but He twists the path of the wicked. (10) Hashem will reign as king forever – your God, O Zion – from generation to generation, Halleluyah."

Time to tackle our four questions! (see How to Learn Tehilim for a full presentation of the methodology we will be using)

Question #1: What is this perek (chapter) about as a whole?

As usual, we will start start by identifying the pivot point. I believe the pivot point is between verses 4 and 5. The first part of the perek seems to be about the mortality of man. David acknowledges his own mortality, and then urges people not to trust in mortal man:

(1) Halleluyah, praise Hashem, O my soul! (2) I will praise Hashem during my lifetime; I will sing to my God while I am still [alive]: (3) "Do not trust in noble benefactors - in a human being, for he holds no salvation. (4) His spirit will depart; he will return to his earth; on that day his plans will perish.

The rest of the perek expresses the praises of God, with an emphasis on how He helps those who are weak or disadvantaged:

(5) Happy is the one whose help is the God of Jacob; his hope is on Hashem, his God. (6) He is the maker of the heavens and the earth, the sea and everything that is in it, Who guards truth forever. (7) He does justice for the exploited, He gives bread to the hungry, Hashem releases the bound, (8) Hashem gives sight to the blind, Hashem straightens the bent, Hashem loves the righteous, (9) Hashem guards strangers, He encourages the orphan and the widow, but He twists the path of the wicked. (10) Hashem will reign as king forever – your God, O Zion – from generation to generation, Halleluyah."

The major question is: What is the unity of these two themes? 

[If you're playing along at home, now's the time to pause the tape and think about the main idea on your own. When you're ready, continue watching!]

Here is the 1-4 sentence summary of the main idea, according to our understanding:

This perek is about why (and how) we should place our bitachon (trust/security/reliance) in Hashem rather than in man. Man is a mortal - and, therefore, a contingent - being; no matter how grandiose his plans may be, they can all be brought to an end in an instant with his death, and there is nothing he can do to stop it. The only One in Whom we can place our bitachon is "the maker of the heavens and the earth" - the Being Who is not contingent, but upon Whom everything else depends for its continued existence. The way to develop our trust in Hashem is to recognize mortality and vulnerability of all human beings, and that all goodness and salvation is dependent on Hashem; the truth of this recognition should be reinforced through praise and song, as David does here.

Question #3: Is this perek true, in whole or in part?

As I did in my write-up of Tehilim 23, I'm going to address Question #3 before Question #2, since there are a couple of questions on the main idea we need to resolve in order to fully appreciate the particulars.

Perhaps the most glaring question on this perek is: "Really? Are you really telling me that if I am wrongfully exploited then I shouldn't trust my lawyer ("[Hashem] does justice for the exploited"), or if I have a problem with my eyes then I shouldn't trust my ophthalmologist ("Hashem gives sight to the blind"), or if my back is sore then I shouldn't trust my orthopedic specialist ("Hashem straightens the bent")  - all because these human beings might die? Isn't that going kind of overboard?"

In order to answer this question, we need to understand the unrealistically high expectations associated with psychological security and insecurity. Wikipedia actually does a fairly good job of providing an operational definition of "emotional insecurity":

Emotional insecurity or simply insecurity is a feeling of general unease or nervousness that may be triggered by perceiving of oneself to be vulnerable or inferior in some way, or a sense of vulnerability or instability which threatens one's self-image or ego.

Accordingly, the level of emotional security we seek is absolute. So long as there is any sense of vulnerability whatsoever, then the insecurity can take hold. We do not feel secure until we feel totally secure.

With this foundation, we can answer our question. David isn't saying that you shouldn't trust in a particular person because you should be worried that he's going to suddenly drop dead. When it comes to practical decision-making, it is rational to operate on the basis of probability, and unless you have reason to assume that a person will drop dead, then you should practically rely on that person. Rather, David's aim is to shatter our absolute trust in human beings by pointing out the one vulnerability we can't escape: death. In other words, it's not that we should assume that the people we trust are going to die, but the fact that they can die invalidates them as the basis for our bitachon.

The second major question on the main idea has to do with free will, and may be stated as follows: "How is it possible to practically rely on human beings and simultaneously have bitachon in Hashem? Isn't a contradiction? If you truly trust in Hashem, then what does it mean 'to rely on human beings,' and if you are relying on human beings, how can you trust in Hashem?"

The Radak [1] answers our question in his commentary on verse 3:

"Do not trust in noble benefactors - in accordance with Yirmiyahu's approach of: "[Thus said Hashem: Accursed is the man who trusts in people and makes flesh his strength] and turns his heart away from Hashem" (Yirmiyahu 17:5). Rather, if he trusts in man, he should place his fundamental trust in God (blessed is He) Who instilled in the noble benefactor the desire to help him.

The Radak understands [2] the pasuk in Yirmiyahu to mean that a person is only curse-worthy if he removes his heart from Hashem completely, and only trusts in human beings. If, however, a person trusts in human beings with the recognition that their dependability is, itself, dependent on Hashem, then this is acceptable.

This raises yet another question: How is their dependability dependent on Hashem? The second half of the Radak's commentary on verse 3 answers this. Even though the individual human being is the one who ultimately makes the decision to help, the desire - or disposition, or impetus, or enabling circumstance - to help was given to that person by Hashem. Were it not for that person's upbringing, or his genetics, or his exposure to certain people or teachings which influenced the development of his generosity, or the situation he was in, or the situation you were in, etc. etc. he would not have displayed the generosity in question. It all traces back to Hashem.

A chavrusa of mine gave an analogy which might help illustrate this point. Imagine working hard to beat a difficult video game and finally doing it. Your natural reaction would be to rejoice in your victory and to feel proud of your accomplishment. However, upon reflection, you would realize that the path to victory only succeeded because of the specific parameters set by the programmer. Had the programmer wished to increase the difficulty level, or change the path to victory to make it impossible for you to win, he could have done so, and you would not have accomplished what you did. Thus, even though you can take credit for the decisions you made in order to beat the game, the credit for the victory does not belong entirely to you. In fact, a rather large measure goes to the programmer.

Now, imagine if the programmer had live access to the game, and could respond to each in-game decision you made by allowing it to succeed as you envisioned it, or by modifying the conditions to thwart your ambition in real-time. Clearly if this were the case, you would not be able to take full credit in your victory, since it was clear that you were only able to win because your programmer opponent allowed for it.

The same is true in our world. You - or the person you rely upon - might be tempted to take full credit for your success or salvation. But upon further contemplation you will realize that this success or salvation was only made possible by the Programmer of the laws of nature, and allowed by His decision not to intervene. This recognition leads to a humble mentality, in which one recognizes that ultimately, success and salvation belong to "the Maker of the heavens and the earth" - not to mankind.

Once we recognize this, the particular praises in verses 7-9 make sense. Although these salvations (i.e. justice for the exploited, bread for the hungry, releasing for the bound, etc.) are brought about through human agency, it is Hashem Who makes this possible - whether by the laws of nature, or by His personal supervision. This recognition enables us to trust in Hashem, even when relying on human beings.

Question #2: What is being said in detail, and how?

As I did last time, I will now provide a brief commentary on each pasuk with the goal of showing how each part develops or reflects the main idea.

(1) Halleluyah, praise Hashem, O my soul! At first glance this sounds like a vanilla expression of praise of the kind we usually see in Tehilim. Upon closer examination we realize that David is urging himself to praise Hashem. Why would he do that? The fact that he has to tell himself to praise Hashem suggests that there is some resistance on his part which must be overcome. I believe that this resistance stems from the old enemy: the mentality of "kochi v'otzem yadi"  - "my ability and the strength of my own hand made me this wealth" (Devarim 8:17). So long as a person takes credit for his own successes, it is impossible to place one's trust in Hashem. The first step must be to overcome this self-glorification by forcing oneself to recognize that it is Hashem "Who gives you the ability to make wealth" (ibid. 8:18). 

(2) I will praise Hashem during my lifetime; I will sing to my God while I am still [alive]: But even within the act of praising Hashem there is ample room for distortion. It is very easy to fall into the mode praising Hashem as "the One Who gives me good things" while simultaneously preserving an illicit feeling of independence - as if "I exist independently but I get stuff from God." In order to counteract this, David incorporates the recognition of his own mortality into his praise of Hashem. He recognizes that insofar as Hashem is the continual cause of his own existence, it would only be proper to devote what life he has to praising the "the Life of the worlds." This is the true level of praise: to recognize that not only the good I receive comes from Hashem, but that the I who receives this good is sustained by Hashem.

(3) Do not trust in noble benefactors. David specifies the class of "nedivim" (which may be translated as "nobles," "benefactors," or "generous people"), since they are the ones in whom we are most likely to take security. Next, he clarifies that the reason why we shouldn't place our security in them, for a noble is but a human being, who holds no salvation. Why does he hold no salvation? Because ...

(4) His spirit will depart; he will return to his earth; on that day his plans will perish. The Radak offers a poetic commentary on this pasuk, saying: "How could salvation 'belong to man' if he can't even save his own spirit?! For his spirit can depart immediately, and return to his earth, and whatever he had planned, he will not be able to do, because the spirit that sustained him has departed!" This is in line with our explanation in our answer to Question #3.

(5) Happy is the one whose help is the God of Jacob; his hope is on Hashem, his God.  Here David introduces the theme of trusting in Hashem. He refers to Him as "the God of Jacob" either because Yaakov demonstrated trust in Hashem, or because he lived a life of suffering, and frequently had to implement the principles of this perek. 

(6) Why is Hashem, alone, the One in Whom we can trust? Because He is the maker of the heavens and the earth, the sea and everything that is in it. Everything that happens in the world can only happen in accordance with His will, whether by the laws of nature or by Hashem's personal supervision. Who guards truth forever - that is to say, His will is absolutely reliable, since it operates in accordance with chochmah (wisdom), tzedek (righteousness), and mishpat (justice).

(7) He does justice for the exploited, He gives bread to the hungry, Hashem releases the bound, (8) Hashem gives sight to the blind, Hashem straightens the bent, Hashem loves the righteous, (9) Hashem guards strangers, He encourages the orphan and the widow, but He twists the path of the wicked. Undoubtedly there are insights to be gained here about how Hashem operates, but the general purpose of these pesukim is to illustrate the derech (method) by which we develop bitachon in Hashem - namely, by praising Him and recognizing that He is the ultimate cause of all forms of salvation and rehabilitation. The methodological premise of both Tehilim and Mishlei are illustrated here: the only way to affect the emotions is to go over example after example of particulars. I don't even think there's a necessity to say that the praises in these pesukim constitute a complete set or reflect a unified idea. I think these are just examples of David carrying out the directive he stated in the opening pasuk: "praise Hashem, O my soul!" (which is why, in my translation, I placed pesukim 3-10 in quotation marks).

(10) Hashem will reign as king forever – your God, O Zion – from generation to generation, Halleluyah." This is the only pasuk I don't understand in light of the approach we've taken. I understand it according to those meforshim who learn our perek to be about Bnei Yisrael at the time of moshiach, but I don't understand why "your God, O Zion" would be invoked if the perek is about bitachon in Hashem for all human beings, as the rest of the perek suggests. Perhaps this pasuk is directed specifically towards the Jew who, by virtue of his knowledge and practice of Torah, his membership in the Jewish people, his following in the footsteps of the Avos, has access to a greater degree of Divine protection, and can reach even higher levels of bitachon. 

Question #4: What of it?

The practical implications of this perek are clear. David's objective is for us to wean ourselves from trust in human beings, and to rewire our bitachon to attach to Hashem. In addition to providing the arguments to back his claim, he also shows us that our praising of Hashem is a mechanism by which we can cultivate this bitachon.

At first I was skeptical about this - until I realized that we do this with human beings all the time. Imagine you were just diagnosed with a rare medical condition. All of the insecurities begin to creep in. A friend of yours mentions the name of doctor. You aren't moved, since you don't know anything about this doctor, so you ask around. You begin hearing things: "Oh, Dr. So-and-so? He's the BEST!" "Dr. So-and-so is regarded as the top doctor in his field!" "My aunt had the same condition, and Dr. So-and-so was able to help her make a full recovery." As you hear more and more praises, your view begins to change. You suddenly find yourself taking security in Dr. So-and-so. How did that change come about? Through praise, and praise alone.

David is suggesting that we take the same approach when praising Hashem. By contemplating and verbalizing these praises of Hashem - on a daily basis, and when faced with situations of vulnerability, adversity, and lack - we slowly but surely build up our bitachon in Him. And the more we recognize the fragility of human beings, the more we wean ourselves from bitachon in man.

Concluding Thoughts

Fortunately, Tehilim 146 is something we say every day, as part of Pesukei d'Zimra. As such, we have a unique opportunity to incorporate these ideas into our worldview. For this reason, it is especially important to think into the ideas of this perek - the main idea and the particular pesukim - and get them crystal clear, so that every morning we can review them, internalize them, and live by them.

[1] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Tehilim 146:3
[2] ibid. Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 17:5. Also, see Rabbeinu Avraham ben ha'Rambam's Ha'Maspik l'Ovdei Hashem: Shaar ha'Bitachon, where he elaborates on this interpretation. I would have incorporated it into this blog post, but I don't have access to all of my books at the present time. I believe he says something to the effect of: "If the pasuk only said, 'Accursed is the man who trusts in people' then the majority of humanity would be doomed! Instead, it added: 'and turns his heart away from Hashem.' In other words, the navi is only condemning those who trust exclusively in man, but those who trust in man and in Hashem are not accursed."

Tehilim 23: The Lord is My Shepherd

This can be read as a standalone post, but is also a follow-up to How to Learn Tehilim (Psalms), which I recommend reading first if you haven't already done so.

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Artwork: Plains (Shards of Alara), by Michael Komarck

Tehilim 23: The Lord is My Shepherd

Here is the text of Tehilim 23:

(1) A psalm by David. Hashem is my Shepherd; I shall not lack. (2) In lush meadows He lays me down, beside tranquil waters He leads me. (3) He restores my soul. He leads me on level paths [1] for His Name's sake. (4) Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no harm, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff - they comfort me. (5) You will prepare a table before me in view of my tormentors. You anointed my head with oil, my cup overflows. (6) Only goodness and kindness will pursue me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the House of Hashem for long days.

Now let's jump right into the four questions (see How to Learn Tehilim for more on this method).

Question #1: What is this perek about as a whole?

Let's start by identifying the pivot point. Although it's debatable, I think the cleanest pivot point is between verses 4 and 5. Verses 1-4 is the mashal (allegory), in which David ha'Melech describes himself as a sheep:

(1) A psalm by David. Hashem is my Shepherd; I shall not lack. (2) In lush meadows He lays me down, beside tranquil waters He leads me. (3) He restores my soul. He leads me on level paths [1] for His Name's sake. (4) Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no harm, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff - they comfort me.

Verses 5-6 are the nimshal (the decoded mashal), in which David speaks as a human:

(5) You will prepare a table before me in view of my tormentors. You anointed my head with oil, my cup overflows. (6) Only goodness and kindness will pursue me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the House of Hashem for long days.

Unlike Tehilim 92, in which the two halves were quite disparate and we had to break down Question #1 into four sub-questions, we only need to break Tehilim 23 into two sub-questions: (a) What is the nimshal? (b) What is gained by expressing this idea as a mashal? (Note that this is basically asking "What is the main idea?" and "What is the function of the pivot point?")

This perek was surprisingly difficult to figure out, considering how overt the theme appeared to be. Clearly this perek has something to do with David's relationship with Hashem, and his trust in Him, which is compared to the reliance of a sheep on a benevolent shepherd. But what aspect of trust or reliance in Hashem is the perek talking about? One might think that this perek is talking about a high level of hashgachah pratis (personal divine supervision) - but if that's the case, then why use this mashal of a sheep doing "normal sheep-things"? Indeed, there is nothing in this mashal or the nimshal which points specifically to hashgachah pratis. [2] If anything, it would seem that this perek is about God's hashgachah klalis (general supervision, or laws of nature) - but if that's true, how can David speak about it with such an emphasis on personal guidance?

Thankfully, the Ibn Ezra showed us the way. Not only did he explain many of the particulars in the perek, but he even explicitly identified a unified theme. Here is what he wrote:

This psalm speaks of the servants of Hashem who forsake all addictions to worldly pleasures (taivos ha'olam) and are content with their portion (smeichim b'chelkam). They consider bread and water the equivalent of the delights provided by any and all delicacies, for their thoughts and hearts are directed to the pleasures of the Olam ha'Ba (World to Come). Hence, they forsake the pleasures of the moment for the eternal pleasures.  

My chavrusa and I really liked the crux of the Ibn Ezra's theory. However, we didn't like the way he framed the point about Olam ha'Ba, we weren't convinced by his explanation of all the details in the pesukim, and we weren't able to see a unified idea in the perek on that basis. Nevertheless, we were able to take his initial definition of the perek and develop our own approach. 

Here is the 1-4 sentence summary of the main idea, according to our understanding:

This perek is about the enjoyment, security, and tranquility attained by the individual whose life revolves around his needs instead of his wants (and certainly instead of his desire-fueled fantasies). The benefits of such a lifestyle are manifold: he will derive immense gratification when partaking of the most basic necessities (e.g. experiencing a meal of bread and water as though he were eating at feast with wine); he will ride through life on an even-keel of contentedness, instead of a roller-coaster of extreme highs and lows (as happens to most of humanity); he will face impending harm with equanimity, finding comfort in the opportunities for insight that arise from such situations; and he will be free of the existential dread and depression of a meaningless existence, since his life revolves around the pursuit of knowledge. As a result of this prioritization of his needs and his recognition that God has provided His world with everything that is necessary, he will feel as though he is being pursued by goodness and kindness throughout his days, enabling him to devote his life to the pleasurable pursuit and contemplation of knowledge. 

(You can see where we overlap with the Ibn Ezra and where we deviate. It's possible that this is what he meant by "their thoughts and hearts are directed to the pleasures of Olam ha'Ba," but I think that's a difficult read.)

Question #3: Is this perek true, in whole or in part?

We're actually going to skip Question #2 and come back to it later, since my guess is that there might be some questions about the veracity of the main idea. Is it really true that Hashem has provided for all of our needs? Is it true that we can achieve all of these benefits simply by prioritizing our needs over our wants? Is this level of bliss actually attainable by someone who is sameach b'chelko in this manner?

Truthfully, each of these questions deserves its own blog post. Instead of attempting to address them in a comprehensive manner, I'm going to share with you an excerpt from the Rambam which addresses all of these points. 

This excerpt is from the part of the Moreh ha'Nevuchim [3] in which the Rambam lays the foundations of his explanation of hashgachah and his commentary on Sefer Iyov. The specific context of the passage is the Rambam's assertion the majority of harm that we suffer in this world is self-inflicted, and is a result of our own ignorance and/or stupidity. The Rambam argues that the major cause of this category of poor decision-making is the pursuit of superfluous goods, beyond our basic needs. He writes:

(Note: the paragraph breaks are mine; the underlines indicate the parts which are most relevant to our perek - though, admittedly, it was difficult not to underline everything!)

This class of [self-inflicted] harms originates in man’s flaws, such as excessive desire for eating, drinking, and sex, indulgence in these things in undue measure, or in improper manner, or partaking of unhealthy food. 

This course brings diseases and afflictions upon body and soul alike. The suffering of the body [in this regard] is well known. Those of the soul are twofold: First, such harms of the soul as are the necessary consequence of changes in the body, insofar as the soul is a force residing in the body; it has therefore been said that the properties of the soul depend on the condition of the body. Secondly, the soul, when accustomed to superfluous things, acquires a strong habit of desiring things which are neither necessary for the preservation of the individual nor for that of the species. This desire is without a limit, whereas things which are necessary are few in number and restricted within certain limits - but what is superfluous is without end. For example, you desire to have your vessels of silver, but golden vessels are still better; others have even vessels of sapphire, or perhaps they can be made of emerald or rubies, or any other substance that could be suggested. 

Those who are ignorant and perverse in their thought are constantly in trouble and pain because they cannot get as much of superfluous things as a certain other person possesses. They will often expose themselves to great dangers, for example, by sea voyage, or service of kings, and all this for the purpose of obtaining that which is superfluous and not necessary. When they thus meet with the consequences of the course which they adopt, they complain of the decrees and judgments of God; they begin to blame God, and are astonished by His [perceived] injustice, that He has not enabled them to acquire great riches, with which they could buy large quantities of wine for the purpose of making themselves drunk, and numerous concubines adorned with various kind of ornaments of gold, embroidery, and jewels, for the purpose of driving themselves to sexual indulgence beyond their capacities – as if the whole universe existed exclusively for the purpose of giving pleasure to these low people.

The error of the ignorant goes so far as to say that God's power is insufficient, because He has given to this universe the properties which they imagine cause these great "evils" which do not help these imperfect persons to obtain the degenerate things which they seek, and to bring their evil souls to the aim of their desires, though these, as we have shown, are really without limit. 

The virtuous and wise, however, see and comprehend the wisdom of God displayed in the Universe. Thus David says: “All of the ways of Hashem are kindness and truth, to those who guard His covenant and His testimonies” (Tehilim 25:10). For those who observe the nature of the Universe and the commandments of the Torah, and know their purpose, see clearly God's kindness and truth in everything; they seek, therefore, that which the Creator intended to be the aim of man, namely, pursuit of knowledge. Due to the needs of the body, they seek that which is necessary for bodily maintenance – “bread to eat and garment to clothe” (Bereishis 28:20), and this is very little - but they seek nothing superfluous. With very slight exertion man can obtain [his bodily needs], so long as he is contented with that which is necessary.

All the difficulties and troubles we meet in this respect are due to the desire for superfluous things. When we seek unnecessary things, we have difficulty even in finding that which is necessary. For the more we desire to have that which is superfluous, the more we meet with difficulties; our strength and possessions are spent in unnecessary things, and are lacking when required for that which is necessary.

Observe how nature proves the correctness of this assertion. The more necessary a thing is for living beings, the more easily it is found and the cheaper it is; the less necessary it is, the rarer and dearer it is. For example, air, water, and food are necessary to man. Air is most necessary, for if man is without air a short time he dies, while he can be without water a day or two. Air is also undoubtedly found more easily and cheaper [than water]. Water is more necessary than food, for some people can be four or five days without food, provided they have water; water also exists in every country in larger quantities than food, and is also cheaper. The same proportion can be noticed in the different kinds of food; that which is more necessary in a certain place exists there in larger quantities and is cheaper than that which is less necessary. No intelligent person, I think, considers musk, amber, rubies, and emerald as very necessary for man except as medicines – and they, as well as other like substances, can be replaced for this purpose by herbs and minerals ...

It is no wrong or injustice for one person to have many bags of the finest myrrh and garments embroidered with gold, while another lacks those things, which are not necessary for our maintenance. He who has them has not thereby obtained control over anything that could be an enhancement of his [true] nature, but has only obtained something illusory or deceptive; the other, who does not possess that which is not wanted for his maintenance, does not miss anything indispensable: “Whoever took more had nothing extra and whoever took less was not lacking; everyone according to what he eats had they gathered” (Shemos 26:18). This is the rule at all times and in all places; no notice should be taken of exceptional cases, as we have explained.

Can you see why my mind went to this excerpt from the Rambam while thinking about the Ibn Ezra's interpretation of Tehilim 23? It's almost as if the Rambam is giving a shiur on all of the premises of our perek!

Personally, I find the Rambam's argument to be convincing enough to accept this perek as true, even though there are many details of practical application that can still use some verification. Enough for now, though. 

Question #2: What is being said in detail, and how?

As I did last time, I will now provide a brief commentary on each pasuk with the goal of showing how each part develops or reflects the main idea. In some cases I'll use the Ibn Ezra's commentary, and in other cases I'll provide the explanation that my chavrusa and I came up with.

(1) The Ibn Ezra points out that the phrase "lo echsar" ("I shall not lack") is a grammatically incomplete statement, since it doesn't tell us what David doesn't lack (i.e. "I shall not lack _____"). Ibn Ezra fills in the blank in accordance with his understanding of the main idea, explaining that David means: "I shall not lack anything that I need." In other words, the person who is sameach b'chelko (content with his portion) is the one who will relate to Hashem as the Shepherd depicted in this mashal. Likewise, those who do not forsake their "worldly lusts" will not be able to relate to Hashem as the Shepherd in this manner.

(2) Just as a sheep lying down in "lush meadows" is surrounded by all the food he needs, so too, the person who prioritizes his needs over his wants will find that everything he needs is within reach. The Rambam acknowledged this in the excerpt above, saying: "With very slight exertion man can obtain [his bodily needs], so long as he is contented with that which is necessary." The Ibn Ezra explains that "tranquil waters" is the opposite of "rushing waters," which a good shepherd would avoid, since the sheep might fall in and be swept away. So too, the person who is sameach b'chelko will not endanger himself by pursuing superfluous goods, as the Rambam wrote about the fools: "They will often expose themselves to great dangers, for example, by sea voyage, or service of kings, and all this for the purpose of obtaining that which is superfluous and not necessary."

(3) Whereas the previous pasuk refers the acquisition of physical needs, which is only a means to an end, "He restores my soul" refers to the satisfaction of the soul through the pursuit of knowledge, which is the ultimate end - an end alluded to at the end of the pasuk: "for His Name's sake" (i.e. for the sake of knowledge of God). "he leads me on level paths" refers to the even-keel of contentedness I wrote about in my summary of the main idea. Most people spend the majority of their lives chasing peaks of extreme pleasure separated by long periods of "quiet desperation." 

(4) "the valley of the shadow of death" is a mashal for situations of potential harm. In these situations the knowledge-seeking person who is sameach b'chelko will "fear no harm," even if there is harm to fear, "because You are with me" - which the Targum translates as "because Your word (i.e. wisdom) is with me." This "word of God" manifests itself in two forms: as a "rod" ("sheivet" lit. "rod of punishment"), which alludes to the knowledge that can be gleaned from the yissurin (afflictions) that he might suffer, and as a "staff" ("mishaan" lit. "support"), which alludes to the practical decision-making knowledge he can use to get himself out of harm's way. In other words, either he will use his wisdom to avoid harm, or he will suffer the harm but learn from it and use this knowledge to further his development. Both options offer comfort (albeit a mature type of comfort - not the childish kind that many people seek from God).

(5) I don't see this pasuk as introducing a new idea, but only providing clarification of the previous ideas. As the Ibn Ezra explained: "You will prepare a table ... You anointed my head with oil, my cup overflows" expresses how someone who "forsakes all taivos ha'olam and is content with his portion" will perceive even the simple pleasures of life, such as "bread to eat and garment to clothe," as an opulent extravaganza. I also believe that the use of the all three tenses - future ("You will prepare a table"), past ("You anointed my head with oil"), and present ("my cup overflows") - supports the notion that this perek is about how Hashem provides us with everything we need in nature, which is true for all times. David emphasizes "in front of my tormentors" to show the extent of his peace of mind: even when he is antagonized by those who knowingly and intentionally aim to cause him pain, he is comforted by the "rod" and "staff" of the "Shepherd."

(6) One of my friends pointed out the oddity here, asking: "What is moving in this pasuk and what is stationary?" You would expect David to be chasing after the "tov" (goodness) and "chesed" (kindness), depicting them as stationary and himself as moving. Instead, he says, "Only tov and chesed will pursue me." He is the one who is stationary, "sitting in the house of Hashem," while the tov and chesed chase him! Again, this is another support for the way we're learning this perek, namely, that it's describing the mentality of the person who is content with satisfying his basic needs. This person recognizes that there is abundant tov and chesed all around, to the point where he feels that it is coming directly to him, and he doesn't even have to move - just like the lamb whose shepherd led it to lie down in lush meadows. "I shall sit/dwell in the house of Hashem for long days" is the explicit nimshal corollary to the phrase in the mashal: "for His Name's sake," which alluded to David's pursuit of knowledge. In other words, obtaining one's physical needs and being sameach b'chelko is not an end in and of itself, but is a means to the end (i.e. involvement in a life of learning).

To reiterate: this is just an example of the manner in which Question #2 should be answered. I realize that I haven't explained every single detail or answered every question, and that some of my explanations and answers are more speculative than others. That's okay. Your goal should be to read the perek through the framework of the main idea - as you currently understand it - see how that idea is developed through the particulars, revise and sharpen your main idea, and keep repeating the process until you've refined your understanding as much as you can.

Question #4: What of it?

The answer to Question #4 surprised me. Tehilim 23 has quite a reputation among Jews and Christians. Many people regard it as an affirmation of reliance on God's personal protection, comfort, and consolation. Some use it as a plea for Divine guidance in times of fear, danger, and uncertainty. Others regard it as a description of what it feels like to be close to God - a state of being that is characterized by protection, guidance, comfort, and tranquility. I'm not saying that these approaches are wrong or misguided. They're just not the approach that we or the Ibn Ezra have taken.

According to our approach, the purpose of this perek is to show us the path to tranquility, but to teach us that this path requires a major overhaul of our value system and our priorities in life. David ha'Melech's description of being shepherded by Hashem sounds great, but how many of us are willing to do the work that it takes to get there? Not many! If I may repurpose the poetic statement of the Rav [4]:

[When] we sing the psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters” (Ps. 23), etc., etc., and we believe with our entire hearts in the ultimate destination of homo religiosis ["religious man"], not the path leading to that destination. For the path that eventually will lead to the “green pastures” and to the “still waters” is not the royal road, but a narrow, twisting footway that threads its course along the steep mountain slope, as the terrible abyss yawns at the traveler’s feet.

In this sense I would almost characterize Tehilim 23 as a "psalm of rebuke." [5] It should be brought to mind and recited when we feel lacking, hungry, in danger of being swept away, weary, jostled by life's vicissitudes, lost without a sense of purpose, afraid of harm, afraid to face suffering, afraid to face our tormentors. When we find ourselves inundated by these feelings, Tehilim 23 reminds us that there is a way to alleviate our suffering and find contentment, security, and peace of mind - but it is up to us to change ourselves if we wish to partake of that bliss. 

To put it differently: we cannot spend our days chasing after superfluity and indulging in our addictions to physical and psychological pleasures and then turn around and complain that we are miserable. Similarly, we cannot demand that Hashem be our Shepherd if we are not willing to live as His lamb - as a creature who is to live a life free of indulgence, loyally following the dictates of our Shepherd.

There is a sense that we live in an era dominated by fear, anxiety, crisis, depression, hopelessness, confusion, loneliness, anger, helplessness, insecurity, restlessness, purposelessness, and a host of other negative emotions. Today, perhaps more than ever, Tehilim 23 is a necessary reminder that a return to simplicity will bring sanity and serenity in its wake - provided that the "simplicity" is a life rooted in satisfying our physical and psychological needs so that we can live a life of knowledge. 

Concluding Thoughts

That's all I've got for Tehilim 23 for now. Remember: I am NOT, by any means, an expert in Tehilim. I'm still trying to figure all of this out myself. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the perek and my analysis. 

[1] this translation follows Rabbeinu Avraham Ibn Ezra, Commentary to Sefer Tehilim 23:3; this makes more sense than "paths of righteousness," since the pasuk is comparing David to a sheep, and sheep are neither righteous nor wicked

[2] I intended to support this point by comparing Tehilim 23 to Tehilim 91, which does seem to be talking about hashgachah pratis. I wanted to cite the entire perek, but I felt that this would interrupt the flow of the analysis, so I relegated it to a footnote. Here is Tehilim 91:

(1) Whoever sits in the refuge of the Most High, he shall dwell in the [protective] shade of the Almighty. (2) I will say of Hashem, "[He is] my refuge and my fortress; my God, I will trust in Him." (3) For He will deliver you from the ensnaring trap, from devastating pestilence. (4) With His pinion, He will cover you, and beneath His wings you will be protected; His truth is shield and armor. (5) You shall not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, (6) nor the pestilence that walks in gloom, nor the destroyer who lays waste at noon. (7) A thousand may fall victim at your side and a myriad at your right hand, but to you it shall not approach. (8) You will merely peer with your eyes and you will see the retribution of the wicked. (9) Because [you said], "You, Hashem, are my refuge," you have made the Most High your abode. (10) No evil will befall you, nor will any plague come near your tent. (11) He will charge His angels for you, to protect you in all your ways. (12) On [their] palms they will carry you, lest you strike your foot against a stone. (13) Upon the lion and the viper you will tread; you will trample the young lion and the serpent. (14) For he has yearned for Me and I will deliver him; I will elevate him because he knows My Name. (15) He will call upon Me and I will answer him; I am with him in distress; I will release him and I will bring him honor. (16) With long life will I satisfy him, and I will show him My salvation. 

See how different the particulars and the overall tone is in comparison to Tehilim 23? Both deal with reliance on God for protection, but Tehilim 91 seems to be a more particular type of supervision, whereas Tehilim 23 is dealing with something different. 

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:12

[4] Rav Yosef Dov ha'Levi Soloveitchik, Halakhic Man, Footnote 4

[5] see Rabbeinu Avraham Ibn Ezra, Commentary to Tehilim 146:2, where he seems to imply that this is a genre of Tehilim