The book of Ecclesiastes, or Kohelet as it's known in Hebrew, wrestles with these kinds of paradoxes. And there’s one verse in particular that always gets me thinking: "There is a grievous evil that I have seen under the sun: Wealth protected for its owner to his detriment" (Ecclesiastes 5:12).
A grievous evil? Is there such a thing as a good evil then? The ancient Rabbis certainly took notice of this unusual phrasing in Kohelet Rabbah, the classic midrashic commentary on Ecclesiastes. They ask, what exactly is this "grievous evil"? The text suggests examples like gout, poverty, debilitation, nakedness, and hunger. All pretty awful. But the verse specifically links it to "wealth protected." How does wealth become a grievous evil?
Well, the Rabbis offer some intriguing examples. Rabbi Yehoshua says it's Korah, of course! That famously wealthy and rebellious figure who challenged Moses's leadership and met a rather unfortunate end, swallowed by the earth (Numbers 16). Then Rabbi Shmuel chimes in, suggesting it's Navot the Jezreelite. Remember him? He refused to sell his ancestral vineyard to King Ahab, leading to his unjust execution orchestrated by Queen Jezebel (1 Kings 21). Was his attachment to his land – his wealth, in a sense – his undoing?
And Rabbi Yehuda throws another name into the mix: Haman! The villain of the Purim story, whose immense wealth and power only amplified his genocidal rage and ultimately led to his own demise (Book of Esther). Are you starting to see a pattern here?
Then Rabbi Yitzchak takes a slightly different tack. He proposes that the verse refers to the Reubenites and Gadites. These tribes, remember, asked to settle outside the promised land, east of the Jordan River, because they had so much livestock (Numbers 32). Their wealth, their attachment to their possessions, led them to a kind of spiritual separation.
But perhaps the most unexpected suggestion comes from the Rabbis collectively, who propose…Job! Yes, that Job, the epitome of suffering. They suggest that Job, who was immensely wealthy, then plunged into poverty, and eventually restored to even greater wealth, embodies this verse. His story illustrates how wealth, its loss, and its restoration can all be sources of profound spiritual challenges.
So, what’s the takeaway? Is wealth inherently bad? No, not necessarily. But the Rabbis, through these diverse interpretations, seem to be highlighting the danger of being overly attached to our possessions. Of letting our wealth define us, control us, or blind us to what truly matters.
Rabbi Gamliel ben Rabbi Ḥanina even asks Rabbi Mona a pointed question: what good can come from this "wealth protected for its owner to his detriment"? Rabbi Mona's answer is fascinating: "The only benefit of the matter is regarding his punishment; when a punishment of the kingdom is imposed upon him, he will give what he will give." In other words, the only good thing about having wealth in this context is that it can be used to pay off fines or penalties imposed by the government! A rather cynical view, wouldn't you say? A far cry from philanthropy! It underscores the idea that wealth, when hoarded and protected to one's detriment, becomes almost…useless.
Maybe, just maybe, the point isn’t about demonizing wealth, but about understanding its potential pitfalls. About recognizing that true wealth lies not in what we possess, but in how we use it, and in the values we hold dear. What do you think? Is there something in your life that you're holding onto too tightly? Something that might be, in its own way, a "grievous evil" disguised as a blessing? Food for thought.