The third pasuk of Mishlei says that the book is here to help us take "musar haskel, tsedek, mishpat, u-mesharim." Gra takes musar haskel to mean successful musar, by which he means directions that successfully guide one’s actions. He notes that wisdom does not enter into this verse, although earlier Mishlei had referred to hokhmah u-musar, wisdom and guidance. Gra explains that for acquiring knowledge (yedi`ah) one needs to first have wisdom and then to train oneself with musar (which Gra thought includes some level of ascetic practices); for ma`aseh, however, musar is primary.

Gra’s throwaway comment raises interesting issues about the relationship between wisdom, knowledge, and action, an issue that arises repeatedly in Mishlei and in his commentary. By defining musar haskel as guidance for practical activity in life, Gra has suggested that the rules for acquiring knowledge differ to some extent from those about how to function in the world. Even in doing so, however, Gra insisted that actions must be included in acquiring knowledge. We might have thought that wisdom was the highest form of intellectual accomplishment, but for Gra wisdom must be combined with practical action to achieve the level of knowledge, which is apparently higher than just book learning. Pretty interesting for a man who spent his life mostly in study.

QUESTION: What do you see as the balance between the need for book knowledge and for practical action, both in terms of developing oneself intellectually and socially/morally? Are actions necessary for the former, and what role do they play? Are books at all necessary for the latter, or should human intuition rule?

Based on the verse, Gra notes three components of musar, but they are not the ones we might have thought. Tsedek (which most people would translate as justice, as in "tsedek, tsedek tirdof, or perhaps charity) means performing kindnesses for all other beings. That has to be tempered, however, by mishpat (strict justice in most translations), which GRA reads as anger. He points out that Hazal see anger as a way to control one’s desires—by arousing one’s self-anger at inappropriate wants. In addition, one needs to be angry with others at some times, to punish them as the law demands.

Gra’s interpretation of mishpat raises interesting questions about judging others (or, for parents, disciplining children). Should mishpat, either inwardly or outwardly focused, be dispassionate or angry? Is it better to recognize my human weaknesses and attempt to control them with an understanding that they are essential parts of myself, or is it better to get angry about them and try to suppress them completely? Similarly, when we need to punish others (legitimately), is it better to do it with anger, or with calm? Gra seems to favor anger to at least some extent, current society seems to strongly favor the non-anger option; the truth probably lies somewhere in the middle, but where that middle is is worth consistent if not constant thought.

Mesharim, to round out our list, is to act straightforwardly with people (not overly kindly, but not filled with righteous anger either) and constitutes the majority of our interactions with others. Generally, life does not involve performing kindnesses with everyone we meet, it simply requires acting as a reasonable human being—with honesty, pleasantness, etc.

These three elements, tsedek, mishpat, u-mesharim, are the content of the musar haskel, the successful instruction in life, that Mishlei intends to provide us. Gra mentions a similar verse in the second chapter, verse 9, which tells him that musar haskel refers to tokhaha, to words of rebuke or reminder of the path we need to tread in life. Mishlei, then, serves as a vehicle for the tokhaha we need in our lives to remind us of how to balance the three other components of a practically successful life.

Verse 4 promises to give ormah to petaim, and da`at u-mezimah to a na`ar. A simple reading of the verse might see it as a promise of Mishlei’s, that people who fall into the categories of peti and na`ar can read this book productively. Gra accepts this as a second reading of the verse, but also suggests that latet, to give, continues the list of qualities that Mishlei will provide the skilled reader. In addition to helping a person grow intellectually (verse 2), practically (verse 3), Mishlei will help a person grow as a teacher, giving the reader the ability to give ormah to petaim. It is not Mishlei, in that reading, that is going to train petaim, it is the person reading Mishlei who will then go out and teach them.

This reading differs from others in indicating that Mishlei was really for the elite, those who would then become the teachers for others, rather than for the average reader. Of course, Gra did not fully mean that, since he then provides a more conventional interpretation, as we will see in a moment. But it is interesting to stop and think about what such elitism regarding Mishlei would look like—the idea that only a select group (although self-selected—the Gra wasn’t putting up barriers around Mishlei, he was just assuming that it would be the wise who would read the book most carefully) were the target audience. It seems not completely coincidental that Gra assumed that he was meant to teach only the select few who were able to keep up with him, and that they would then teach the rest of the world.

QUESTION: What are the proper venues to rely on elites? Would it make sense that a book of Tanakh, of sacred Scripture, would be accessible primarily to those who are ready to make the full efforts to become qualified teachers of Torah? Is relatively open access to that elite group a sufficient condition to make us feel comfortable with a system that relies on such elites and grants them a great deal of power in interpreting the system?

In the event, Gra also offers a simpler reading, in which Mishlei is promising that it itself will grant ormah to petaim and da`at u-mezimah to na`ar, but the translation of those terms is crucial to what the verse will mean. Gra here (he is not consistent throughout Mishlei) defines a peti as one who does not have the sophistication (or cleverness, perhaps) to recognize the tricks and wiles of the yetser hara. Knowing how to lure others to one’s own desires, or how to recognize such attempts, is called being arom (like the serpent from the Garden of Eden, although Gra doesn’t make that connection explicitly); a peti has no ormah. Mishlei will help such a person spot such lures, so that he or she might resist them.

Alongside cleverness goes knowledge, and Gra sees a na`ar as someone who has none of it (in contrast to a hakham, which here does not mean only someone wise, but someone with real knowledge). Mishlei will give such a person da`at (knowledge) u-mezimah, which Gra does not define separately, but which he does say refers to penimiyot and hitsoniyot, to internal and external knowledge. This is a coupling that arises numerous times in the commentary, and is worth noting each time. Here, Gra seems to be suggesting that the knowledge that a hakham has (and that a na`ar lacks) involves internal and external components, terms that can be interpreted in many ways.

QUESTION: What do you see as "internal" and "external" knowledge? Do you agree with Gra that both are necessary to qualify as wise?

I begin each week thinking I will be able to do more than two verses in the Gra, but his commentary is richer and requires more consideration than I remember to budget it. I will close here with best wishes for a similarly rich Pesah, when we come to understand and appreciate our freedom as Jews most fully. Shabbat Shalom and Hag Kasher ve-Same’ah.