Friday, September 25, 2026

Sukkot and Kohelet

Sukkot and Kohelet


Ec. 2:24-26 “There is nothing worthwhile for a man but to eat and drink and afford himself enjoyment with his means. And even that, I noted, comes from God. For who eats and who enjoys but himself? To the man, namely, who pleases Him He has given the wisdom and shrewdness to enjoy himself…”

Ec. 8:15  "I therefore praised happiness. For the only good a person can have under the sun is to eat and drink and enjoy..."

 

On Sukkot, we are commanded to be joyful. Ironically, on this joyful holiday we traditionally read the book of Ecclesiastes (Kohelet), a book which is far from joy-inducing. A brief history of the book follows.

Kohelet (Ecclesiastes is from the Greek word meaning assembly) is not prophetic or an attempt to communicate God's words, but rather insights into life in the world from an entirely human perspective. It is often considered part of “Wisdom Literature." For much of history, the word Kohelet was translated as “Preacher.” However, given the quasi-religious character of that ​term, the word ​usually has been replaced with “Teacher.” Unlike some other Wisdom books, its concepts do not derive from knowledge acquired by generations of thinkers, but rather is (at least textually) from a single author.    

Authorship is traditionally ascribed to King Solomon, since the opening chapters describe the author as a “Son of David” and “King over Israel.” Modern scholarship rejects this origin story, arguing that Kohelet is a work in the “pseudepigraphical tradition” (using the name of a well-known sage to add gravitas to its composition). While there is no scholarly consensus on its origin, the inclusion of Persian loan-words, Aramaic grammatical forms and Hellenistic thought suggest that it was written around 240 BCE, or 700 years after Solomon’s rule. This is supported by the existence of similar literary works in Mesopotamia and Egypt in that time frame.   

Nevertheless, Kohelet has been part of the Hebrew Bible since its canonization early in the first millennium (even though its inclusion was a source of argument several centuries before between the schools of Shammai and Hillel, with Hillel winning the debate as usual). It is probable that without ascribing the book to Solomon, it would not have been part of our Biblical tradition. From a historical point of view, the adoption of the concepts of an afterlife and resurrection by rabbinic thinkers​ prior to and in the Mishnaic/Talmudic era​ (ideas rejected by Kohelet) helps make the case for Kohelet’s writing and adoption prior to the second century BCE​.

Kohelet is most well-known for its emphasis on a nihilistic worldview, stating that all human life is "vain," "futile," "empty" and "meaningless."  The author promotes wisdom to make life meaningful, and urges enjoyment of life through simple pleasures (eating, drinking, and physical love)​, all of which are gifts from God. 

Kohelet’s insights seem at first (or second or third) reading to be contrary to traditional Jewish thought (at least as explained by the rabbis) in other significant ways. ​Our received tradition posits that life is good, that evil is punished and that good behavior is rewarded. Kohelet maintains that life is meaningless and that in the end, all of us — wise and foolish, righteous and wicked, rich and poor — die. 

            So, to review the question I implied at the outset. Why read this book on a holiday when we are commanded to be joyful? I believe that the answer lies in the book itself, and in the verses quoted above. When God has commanded us to be joyful on this holiday, we do so by enjoying the gifts God has given us.  

Sunday, September 20, 2026

My Grandfather and Yom Kippur

For Yom Kippur  


  During the Mincha (afternoon) service on Yom Kippur, we read the Book of Jonah. Most assume that we read it because of its theme of repentance, exemplified by the non-Jewish citizens of Nineveh after the warnings from the reluctant prophet Jonah. It has been suggested that this service is an especially poignant moment for having our prayers answered [another theme of Jonah, when God rescues him from the belly of the great fish (Brachot 6a)].  

          For me, this service has special meaning. Many years ago, my grandfather Michael David (aka “Peepa”) joined us at my shul for Yom Kippur. When the Mincha service was ready to begin, the Cantor who was to officiate was too ill to proceed, and the Rabbi asked whether anyone in the congregation was familiar with the special nusach (melody) for the service. My grandfather volunteered, even though he was more than 80 at the time. He davened beautifully, so beautifully in fact, that he was asked to repeat his performance the following year, which he did. He was invited for a third time but unfortunately passed away before he could step up to the bimah again.

            I asked our Cantor, Edwin Gerber, if he would teach me the appropriate nusach so that I could undertake the role of shaliach tzibur like my grandfather had done. For the following several years, I had the honor of leading services as my grandfather had done. My work at other congregations kept me from continuing this annual tradition, but I was able some years later to again take on this honor, an honor I have frequently had since that time.

            For me, standing before the congregation and chanting the words my grandfather had done decades ago brings a deep and satisfying connection not only to him, but with our tradition. In my earliest memories, I recall standing with him at High Holy Day services, playing with the fringes on his tallit. He represented in my childish mind’s eye all of the generations of ancestors spanning the years back to our Jewish origins.

            At this auspicious time, when we are hungry, thirsty, and we are tired of facing down our fears, we might find comfort in the continuity of our tradition, which to me remains joined with memories of my beloved grandfather.  

May we all feel a special connection to our tradition, to our people, to our history and to God at this special time, and may we find in that connection the strength to make our fast meaningful.