The book of Ecclesiastes, or Kohelet as it's known in Hebrew, wrestles with these very feelings. One verse in particular, Ecclesiastes 6:10, really gets to the heart of it: "What was, its name was already called, and it is known that he is man, and neither can he contend with what is mightier than he."

But what does that even mean?

Well, Kohelet Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of Ecclesiastes, dives deep into this verse, and the results are pretty fascinating. It uses stories, parables, to illuminate the verse's meaning, and to teach us something about ourselves and our relationship with the Divine.

The first interpretation connects "What was, its name was already called" to Adam, the first human. As it says in Genesis 2:15, "The Lord God took the man." But here's the thing: when God created Adam, the angels were... confused. They looked at this magnificent being and couldn't tell the difference between Adam and God! They were about to proclaim "Holy, holy, holy!" before Adam, the same praise they offered to God, as we see in Isaiah 6:3.

So, what did God do? According to Kohelet Rabbah, God brought sleep upon Adam. Suddenly, it was clear: this was just a man. As God tells Adam later, "For you are dust, and you will return to dust" (Genesis 3:19). The sleep, in this interpretation, was a way of showing Adam's mortality, his limitations.

The Midrash – the rabbinic method of interpreting scripture – then moves on to Moses. "What was, its name was already called" – this, the Rabbis say, refers to Moses, as it is stated: "The Lord called to Moses" (Leviticus 1:1). Everyone knew Moses was a prophet, especially after God told him, "Now, go, and I will send you to Pharaoh" (Exodus 3:10). He was God's chosen messenger, leading the Israelites out of Egypt.

But remember the story of the Golden Calf? A huge low point for the Israelites, a real crisis of faith. God says to Moses, "Go down, because your people, whom you brought up out of Egypt, have become corrupt" (Exodus 32:7).

And Moses, bless his heart, argues back! He says, "Master of the universe, when they are good, they are Yours, and when they are bad, they are mine? Whether they are good or bad, they are Yours!"

The Midrash illustrates this with a parable of a king and a sharecropper. When the vineyard produces good wine, the king boasts, "How fine is the wine of my vineyard!" But when it produces bad wine, the king says, "How poor is the wine of the vineyard of my sharecropper." The sharecropper, understandably upset, cries out, "My lord the king, when it produces superior wine it is yours, and when it produces inferior wine it is mine? Whether it is good or bad it is yours."

Just like Moses is saying, "These are Your people, God, through and through. Their successes and their failures reflect on You."

But even Moses, as righteous as he was, had to face his own limitations. Remember when he begged to enter the Promised Land? "Please, let me cross over and see the good land," he pleads in Deuteronomy 3:25. But God says, "Enough! Do not speak to Me anymore about this matter" (Deuteronomy 3:26). Even Moses couldn't contend with what was mightier than him.

Finally, the Midrash connects the verse to Jeremiah. "What was" – this is Jeremiah, and it is known to all that he is a prophet, as it is stated: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you" (Jeremiah 1:5). Jeremiah's prophetic destiny was known from the very beginning.

So, what do we take away from all this? We learn that even the greatest figures in Jewish history – Adam, Moses, Jeremiah – had to grapple with their humanity, their limitations, and the power of something far greater than themselves. Kohelet Rabbah uses these stories to remind us that we too are human. We are finite. And ultimately, we can't always contend with what is mightier than us.

But maybe, just maybe, recognizing that truth is the first step to finding peace and meaning in a world that often feels overwhelming. Maybe accepting our limitations allows us to focus on what we can do, on the good we can bring, and on the connection we can have with something greater than ourselves.