A careful reading of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) we have just read on Shabbat, reveals that it is not a simple book, but rather a challenging and complex one. Chazal, the sages of the Talmudic era, even considered hiding it away, for it contains internal contradictions.
Thus teaches Rav Yehuda, the son of Rav Shmuel bar Shilat, in the name of Rav:
“The Sages sought to suppress Kohelet because its words contradict each other. And why did they not suppress it? Because its beginning is words of Torah and its end is words of Torah. Its beginning is words of Torah, as it is written: ‘What profit has man of all his labor which he labors under the sun?’ And the school of Rabbi Yannai said: ‘Under the sun he has none, but before the sun he has.’ Its end is words of Torah, as it is written: ‘The end of the matter, all having been heard: fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole man’” (Bavli Shabbat 30b).
According to Rav, the very essence of Kohelet lies in the importance of Torah study and its observance. This may be one of the reasons we read Kohelet during Hag Ha’Asif (the Festival of the Ingathering) to remind the reader what truly matters in life.
Yet today, I wish to suggest a different perspective on the nature of Kohelet and its connection to Sukkot.
‘Vanity of vanities’
Shlomo Hamelech (King Solomon) begins his book with the words:
“Vanity of vanities, said Kohelet, vanity of vanities, all is vanity. What profit has man of all his labor which he labors under the sun?”
This opening sets the tone of the book and accompanies the reader throughout. At first glance, Kohelet seems to lead us to depression and despair – why strive, why acquire, why advance, if “all is vanity”?
Yet a deeper look reveals a contradiction. Shlomo himself asserts that there is indeed an advantage in certain actions and one should strive to achieve them.
“And I saw that wisdom excels folly, as light excels darkness” (Kohelet 2:13).“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor” (4:9).
“A good name is better than good oil, and the day of death [is better] than the day of one’s birth” (7:1). “For wisdom is a defense, money is a defense; but the excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom preserves the life of him that has it” (7:12) and so on.
For Shlomo, wisdom, wealth, joy, and inner tranquility do have an advantage. The challenge is to probe more deeply into what he means.
Advantage vs purpose
Perhaps Shlomo distinguishes between advantage (yitron) and purpose (tachlit).
Advantage is relative, fragile, and not guaranteed to endure, while purpose, by contrast, is eternal, connected to values and to the divine.
Shlomo, who reigned in Jerusalem, achieved unmatched wealth, surpassed all in wisdom, and built an empire, asks the essential human question: Why am I laboring? What is the purpose of my life? What gives life meaning?
He does not deny enjoying “the good life.” He does not deny that wealth is preferable to poverty, and wisdom preferable to folly. But his novel idea is this: all these advantages are relative. They may even turn against a person. Wisdom can lead to anger at injustice. Knowledge can bring pain, for one sees the world deteriorating and cannot stop it. Wealth brings present worries and future uncertainties – “who knows who will come after me?”
Therefore, the purpose of human life cannot be to pursue relative advantages, which are unstable, temporal, and tied to the limitations of this world.
True purpose
Kohelet offers another path: the pursuit of true purpose.
“The end of the matter, all having been heard: fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole man” (12:13).
This is not about relative advantage, but about the essence of man. The tzelem Elokim, the divine image within us, was given by God Himself. Torah study, mitzvah observance, avodat Hashem – these are not done in relation to others, nor are they bound by time or circumstance. They connect us to eternity.
Such work does not lead to anger or despair, because one realizes that the full picture can’t be seen: “there is One higher than the high, and He watches over them.” The mitzvot help a person realize his inner essence. Serving God – not serving oneself – is Shlomo’s most crucial teaching.
This does not deny the beauty or pleasure in worldly things. Nor does it dismiss the effort to improve life. But it insists: these alone do not grant true happiness or fulfillment. “Seize this, and also seize that; let not your hand rest” – yes, engage in the world, but never lose sight of life’s higher purpose: to serve the Eternal and refine one’s own soul.
Kohelet and Sukkot
From this perspective, the connection between Kohelet and Sukkot becomes clear.
On the Holiday of Harvest, we rejoice in our physical achievements – our harvest, our possessions, our security. Yet, precisely then, we leave our homes, our fortresses of comfort, to dwell in a temporary sukkah. In doing so, we are invited to reflect on life’s larger questions: Why do we do what we do? Do we feel true satisfaction in our path? These are questions about essence, purpose, and not advantage.
Such questions may unsettle us, even depress us. But they are meant to lead us toward defining what real joy is: inner joy, spiritual fulfillment, the joy of “you shall rejoice before Hashem, your God.”
Not merely the joy of the water-drawing celebration, but the inner simhah of one who knows his path and his purpose.
Life is indeed complex and filled with both failure and success, disappointment and hope. But when one cleaves to the Eternal, an inner joy emerges – deeper than all other emotions. This joy gives strength and courage, allowing us to pursue even relative advantages, but always in the service of true purpose.
Today, we stand filled with mixed emotions, a powerful combination of immense joy and deep sadness.
We rejoice, with all of Am Yisrael, at the anticipated release of the hostages, b’ezrat Hashem, and their long-awaited reunion with their families and with their nation. Our hearts overflow with gratitude, relief, and hope.
Yet, that joy is tinged with sorrow. We cannot ignore the painful price that has been paid, the loss of so many brave soldiers, the suffering of the wounded, and the heavy moral and emotional weight of releasing those terrorists who have caused so much harm.
Life is not simple. It is filled with paradoxes – joy and grief, faith and fear, hope and heartbreak. At moments like this, we are called not only to feel, but also to reflect.
This moment asks us – both as individuals and as a nation – not only questions of advantage or gain, but of purpose.
What is our tachlit? What is the vision and destiny of the People of Israel – especially after the past two years that have tested us so deeply?
If we can succeed in shaping a shared national vision, one rooted in faith, unity, and moral clarity, then we will begin the long process of national healing. We will be able to transform pain into purpose, confusion into clarity, and suffering into strength.
In doing so, we will continue the journey of our forefather Avraham – “toward the land that I will show you” – a journey of faith toward an unseen future, guided by Divine promise and by our eternal calling to bring blessing, justice, and holiness into the world.
May we merit to walk that path together – with courage, with compassion, and with renewed vision for the days ahead.
The writer is rabbi of Kehilat Nitzanim synagogue in Jerusalem.