Pathways

As we begin the cycle of Krias HaTorah anew, with Parshas Beraishis, it is perhaps not surprising to find a connection between the first Parsha in the Torah, and the first Perek in Tehillim.

Kapital 1 begins with the words “Ashrei HaIsh” and its Pessukim are a study in contrasts. First, praise is bestowed upon one “Asher Lo Halach B’Atzas Reashim U’Bederech Chataim Lo Amad U’Bemoshav Letzim Lo Yashav”. Rather, he should use his time wisely: “Ki Im B’toras Hashem Cheftzo U’Bitoraso Yehegeh Yomam VaLayla”. If he does so, he is promised success, “V’Chol Asher Yaaseh Yatzliach” as opposed to Reshaim whose fortune is fleeting “K’Motz Asher Tifdenu Ruach”.

The Perek concludes with a final dichotomy: Reashim will not survive Mishpat, and Chataim will not be counted among the Adas Tzadikim. This is because “Yodeah Hashem Derech Tzadikim V’Derech Reashim Toved”. Hashem watches over Tzadikim, while the Reshaim face destruction.

It is clear that this Perek is meant to provide us with guidance for life: there are always choices to be made, and we must recognize that our decisions have consequences. If we choose to steep ourselves in Torah, and follow the Derech Tzadikim, we will enjoy Bracha. If, however, we fall to the “Atzas Reshaim”, we risk ending up like chaff blown away by the wind.

Although the overall theme of the Perek is readily apparent, we must understand the way in which it is conveyed.

In looking at the very first Passuk, a significant question arises. Why did Dovid Hamelech choose to begin the Perek in the negative, “Ashrei HaIsh Asher Lo Halach B’Atzas Reashim U’Bederech Chataim Lo Amad…” and not in the positive? Why not first praise the one who defines “Ki Im B’Toras Hashem Cheftzo…” first, and then discourage us from following in the paths of Reshaim?

Radak suggests a rational explanation for this pattern. When a person is born, he explains, he is immediately exposed to the Tavos Olam Hazeh, but may not be exposed to the Derech HaTorah until he matures. The Passuk is therefore sequential: one must first learn to avoid the “Derech Chataim” and then he can reach a level of “Toras Hashem Cheftzo”.

This answer is somewhat difficult to understand. The Perek is not written only for children: it is meant to be guide to us throughout our lives. In fact, we know that the best antidote to the Yetzer Harah is Torah: “Barasi Yetzer Harah, Barasi Torah Tavlin.” It would therefore certainly make sense to speak about the ideal of “Toras Hashem Cheftzo” before warning us to avoid the Atzas Reshaim and Derech Chataim. Why is the Passuk written in the opposite way?

This question is particularly pressing if we understand the first word of this first Passuk.

Rashi, based on the Medrash Shochar Tov here, tells us: “B’Asara Leshonos Shel Zemer Ne’emar Sefer Zeh”. There are ten words, all of which refer to a type of song, which are used to describe the various Perakim of Tehillim. Some of these are more familiar—Shir, Mizmor, Hallel—and some less so. One of these words is “Ashrei”, with which this Perek begins.

Although it would appear from Rashi that the ten “Leshonos Shel Zemer” are equal to one another, Chazal suggest that this is perhaps not so.

The Gemara in Brachos suggests that the first two Perakim in Teillim are in fact connected, as one larger entity. As a proof, the Gemara brings a Memra of R’ Yochanan which tells us: “Kol Parsha Shehaya Chaviva Al Dovid Pasach Bah B’Ashrei V’Siyem Bah B’Ashrei”. The use of the word “Ashrei” at the beginning and end of a Perek means that it was especially beloved to Dovid Hamelech. The example given by R’ Yochanan of a “Parsha Shehaya Chaviva Al Dovid” is the Perek, which begins with the words “Ashrei HaIsh” and ends with the words “Ashrei Kol Chosei Bo”. Because the words “Ashrei Kol Chosei Bo” appear at the end of the second Perek, see that the two are actually connected to one another.

It emerges from the Gemara that this Perek is particularly Chaviv to Dovid Hamelech, as denoted by his use of the word Ashrei. Why would such a beloved and special Perek, the first in all of Tehillm, begin in such a negative way? Why not begin this “Parsha Chaviva” by praising one who indeed walks on the Derech HaYashar, and therefore eschews the Havlei Olam Hazeh?

In fact, the Medrash Shochar Tov also tells us that there was great intent in these words. Chazal tell us that the Torah avoids writing in the negative—using the term “Aineno Tehora” as opposed to “Temeiah”, for example—and Dovid Hamelech wished to emulate these ways. Therefore, instead of writing “Aror HaIsh Asher Halach…” he wrote “Ashrei HaIsh Asher Lo Halach…”

It seems, however, that these words are not necessary at all. If the Perek began by praising one who follows the Derech Tzadikim, it would not have to say “Aror”, and could just say “V’Lo Halach…” Why change the words to “Ashrei HaIsh Asher Lo Halach…” instead of saying “Ashrei HaIsh Asher Halach B’Atzas Tzadikm” or something similar?

Perhaps we can answer this question based on one last Medrash on these words.

After listing the Asara Leshonos Shel Zemer, Rashi notes that they correlate to the ten people who wrote parts various parts of Tehillim, but does not explain why or how. We may, however, find a connection in a Medrash on the words “B’Asara Leshonos Shel Zemer”.

One of the individuals listed by Rashi is Adam Harishon, and the Medrash suggest that he was in fact the one who first said these words. In reflecting on his encounter with the Nachash, Adam spoke about the virtue of not following the Atzas HaReshaim, in not treading the Derech Chataim, and in avoiding a Moshav Letzim. Based on this Medrash we can perhaps understand that whenever one of the Asara Leshonos Shel Zemer appears, it is somehow tied to the experiences of one of the ten people who contributed to Sefer Tehillim, in this case Adam HaRishon.

If this is true, perhaps we can explain the words of the Passuk if we have a better understanding of the events surrounding the Etz Hadaas.

There is one overriding question that plagues anyone with even a basic understanding of the story of Adam, Chava and the Nachash. If Adam was placed in the Gan with one explicit directive—not to eat from the Etz HaDaas—how could the words of the Nachash steer them so quickly away from the Dvar Hashem?

R’ Meir Simcha, in Meshech Chachma, explains the Pessukim in a way that answers this question with clarity.

The Nachash came “B’Muskal”, with guile. He explained that if Adam and Chava were to eat from the Etz HaDaas, they would experience a level of extreme Hishkarvus L’Elokus, which would allow them to overcome any inclination L’Rah. HKBH truly wished for his creations to attain this level, reasoned the Nachash, but to do so out of complete Mesiras Nefesh. He therefore told Adam that eating from the Etz HaDaas would lead to death, so that when Adam did so out of an intense desire to reach unforetold Hishkarvus L’Elokus it would be done with Mesiras Nefesh.

The Nachash continued, pointing out to Adam that the Halacha is “Ain Mashgichin B’Bas Kol”, and so his instinct to give up his Chelek of Olam HaZeh and Olam HaBaah in order to reach this level of Kirva to HKBH was in fact allowed, despite the direct warning from HKBH that he not do so. This, concluded the Nachash, would be actually be a fulfilment of the true Ratzon Hashem—that Adam seek Kirvas Elokim through complete Mesiras Nefesh.

This is of course a totally new way of understanding the entire story. Adam’s failure was that he listened to the Nachash, that we know, but it was out of a desire to reach new levels of Kirva to HKBH. His Aveira, as R’ Meir Simcha puts it, was an “Avierah Lishma”, one done out of a yearning to be closer to Hashem, to reach levels of Ruchnias that would allow him to avoid the traps of the Yetzer Harah.

Based on this, we can better understand the words of Adam Harishon himself.

This Passuk, “Ashrei HaIsh Asher Lo Halach B’Atzas Reashim”, is not a warning against the Taivos Olam HaZeh, these are not words warning us to avoid Rah. Rather, they are instructions for our Avodas Hashem. The worst, most pernicious, Atzas Reshaim is the one that disguises itself as an Asei Tov. The Yetzer Harah that convinces us to do that which seems wrong, not because it is enjoyable, but because it is noble and righteous. It was this type of argument with which the Nachash Hakadmoni was successful, and about which Adam spoke.

This is why the Perek had to begin this way, for the complete thought is as follow: Ashrei HaIsh Asher Lo Halach B’Atzas Reashim… Ki Im B’toras Hashem Cheftzo U’Bitoraso Yehegeh Yomam VaLayla”. In our Avodas Hahsem, we are not to follow the Atzas HaYetzer that steers us towards Aveirah Leshma—our only guide should be the Torah itself. Ours is not to find ways to outsmart the Torah in pursuit of higher Madreigos in Ruchnias, but to use the Torah alone.

We know understand why this Perek was so Chaviv to Dovid Hamelech: it provides guidance that is essential to our lives and has been since Brias HaOlam. Our inner desire for Kirvas Elokim is so strong that we can, at times, rationalize actions that we know to be contrary to the Ruach HaTorah, convincing ourselves that they are in fact holy. One who lives this way will never achieve that which he desires, but will instead find himself “K’Motz Asher Tifdenu Ruach.”

If, however, we follow the advice of Adam Harishon, as written by Dovid Hamelech, we will experience the Brachos promised in this Perek, and lead lives of true Kirvas Elokim.