Kohelet, Ecclesiastes, throws us a curveball right from the start: "A good name is better than fine oil, and the day of death than the day of one's birth" (Ecclesiastes 7:1). Whoa. Let's unpack that first part: "A good name is better than fine oil." What could that possibly mean?
Kohelet Rabbah, a rabbinic commentary on Ecclesiastes, dives deep into this seemingly simple statement. It's not just about smelling nice, is it?
The Rabbis begin by pointing out the obvious, and yet profound, differences between them. "Fine oil descends," they say, referencing Psalms 133:2, likely alluding to the oil poured down Aaron's beard. "A good name ascends," echoing Genesis 12:2, where God promises to make Abraham’s name great. It's a matter of direction, of aspiration. One drips down, the other soars upwards.
Then comes the question of time. Fine oil is temporary. We use it, it's gone. But a good name? That’s eternal. Fine oil is finite. There's only so much of it. A good name? Infinite. It lives on in stories, in memories, in the impact we have on the world. It's a gift that keeps on giving, long after we're gone.
Think about it practically. Fine oil costs money. You have to buy it. A good name? It's free. You earn it through your actions, your character, the way you treat others. No price tag can be put on integrity.
And who benefits? Fine oil is for the living. We use it to anoint, to heal, to beautify ourselves. A good name, though, is for both the living and the dead. It's the legacy we leave behind, the way we are remembered. Fine oil is for the wealthy, those who can afford the luxury. A good name? It’s for everyone, rich or poor.
The Rabbis continue, painting a vivid picture: fine oil’s scent travels from the inner chamber to the banquet hall. Pleasant, but limited. A good name? It carries from one end of the world to the other. Think of Moses, of Ruth, of any figure whose acts of kindness or courage still inspire us today.
Here's where it gets really interesting. Fine oil, when it falls on a corpse, putrefies. As Ecclesiastes 10:1 so starkly puts it, "Flies of death putrefy and ferment blended oil." Harsh, right? But a good name? It falls on the dead and does not putrefy. It has the power to transcend even death. The Rabbis illustrate this with the story of Elisha in II Kings 4:35. Elisha’s righteousness, which earned him a good name, allowed him to revive the dead.
And the analogies keep coming. Fine oil falls on water and disperses, vanishing without a trace. A good name falls on water and does not disperse. Think of Jonah. Despite his initial disobedience, his story, his repentance, endures – symbolized in the commentary by the verse from Jonah 2:11: "The Lord said to Jonah and it spewed Jonah out." He couldn't be washed away.
Fine oil falls onto fire and burns. A good name falls on fire and does not burn. This brings us to the story of Ḥananya, Mishael, and Azarya (often known by their Babylonian names, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego) in Daniel 3:26. They were thrown into a fiery furnace for refusing to worship a false idol, and yet, they emerged unharmed. Their faith, their integrity, protected them.
Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon sums it up beautifully: “We have found those with fine oil who entered a place of life and emerged burned, and those with a good name who entered a place of death and emerged alive.” He points to Nadav and Avihu, sons of Aaron, who were anointed to the priesthood with the anointing oil. They entered the Tabernacle and were killed (Leviticus 10:1–2), a place of life becoming their place of death. In contrast, Ḥananya, Mishael, and Azarya entered a fiery furnace, a place of death, and emerged alive.
So, what's the takeaway? Is it about avoiding oil altogether? Of course not. It's about perspective. It's about recognizing what truly matters. It's about understanding that while external adornments and fleeting pleasures have their place, it's the character we build, the kindness we show, the impact we have on the world that will ultimately define us. It's about striving for a good name, a legacy of righteousness, that echoes long after we are gone. Because, as Kohelet reminds us, a good name truly is better than fine oil. What kind of name are we building?