The ancients certainly did. And in Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of Rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, we find a fascinating glimpse into their thoughts on death, destiny, and the unknowable.

Our jumping-off point is a verse from Genesis (27:2), where Isaac says, "Behold, I have now grown old; I do not know the day of my death." It’s a pretty straightforward statement. But Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korḥa sees something deeper. He suggests that when a person reaches the age their parents were when they died—give or take five years—they should start being mindful of their own mortality. Isaac, in this moment, was 123 years old, nearing the ages his parents were at their passing: Abraham died at 175, and Sarah at 127. It's a poignant reminder to cherish each day, to live with intention. The rabbis aren't trying to be morbid, but rather urging us to be present and aware.

But the passage in Bereshit Rabbah doesn't stop there. It goes on to list seven things that are hidden from us, seven areas where human knowledge falls short. It’s a powerful list, each item revealing a different aspect of our limited understanding.

What are these seven hidden things?

First, as we’ve already seen, is the day of our death. Ecclesiastes (9:12) says it plainly: "For a person, too, does not know his time." We can plan, we can hope, but ultimately, that moment is beyond our grasp.

Second, we don't know the day of consolation. This refers to when we will find comfort after loss or suffering. The Etz Yosef commentary explains this as the time of redemption. Isaiah (60:22) tells us, "At its time, I will hasten it," implying that while redemption is promised, the timing is not revealed.

Third, we can't fully grasp the profundity of divine justice. Deuteronomy (1:17) reminds us, "For judgment is God’s." We may struggle to understand why things happen as they do, but ultimate justice is beyond our human comprehension.

Fourth, we don't know how we will truly profit. Ecclesiastes (3:13) states, "It is the gift of God." Success and prosperity are not solely the result of our efforts; there's an element of divine grace involved.

Fifth, we can’t truly know what’s in another person’s heart. Jeremiah (17:10) declares, "I, the Lord, probe the heart." We can observe behavior, listen to words, but the innermost thoughts and motivations of others remain a mystery.

Sixth, a person does not know what the woman is carrying in her pregnancy. As it is written, “[You do not know]…how the fetuses grow in a womb of the pregnant” (Ecclesiastes 11:5).

And finally, we don't know when the "evil empire" will fall. Isaiah (63:4) says, "For a day of vengeance is in My heart." While the verse speaks of eventual triumph over evil, the timing remains hidden in God's plan.

So, what does this all mean? What are we supposed to take away from this ancient wisdom?

Perhaps it’s a call to humility. A reminder that despite all our knowledge and technological advancements, there are fundamental aspects of existence that remain beyond our grasp. Maybe it’s an invitation to embrace the unknown, to find peace in the mystery. Or perhaps, it's simply a nudge to appreciate the present moment, to live each day fully, knowing that time is precious and uncertain. Whatever resonates with you, the words of Bereshit Rabbah offer a timeless reflection on the human condition.