Specifically, the verse in Chapter 7, verse 20: "For there is not a righteous man upon the earth, who does good, and does not sin."
Think about that for a moment. Is it saying that everyone messes up, regardless of how hard they try to be good?
The Rabbis grappled with this idea, too. And in Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of Rabbinic interpretations of Ecclesiastes, they offer a fascinating perspective. Rabbi Yudan asks a pointed question: "Is there a righteous man who sins?" It seems like a contradiction, doesn't it? How can someone be righteous and yet sin?
Rabbi Yudan then offers a specific example: those who collect and distribute tzedakah – charity. Now, giving to those in need is a deeply important value in Judaism. But what happens when those in charge of distributing the funds give to someone who perhaps isn't the most deserving? Or maybe they accidentally overlook someone who is? Are they sinning?
Here's where it gets really interesting. Kohelet Rabbah suggests that the word "sin" – yeḥta in Hebrew – in this verse shouldn't be taken as a spiritual failing. It's not about moral corruption. Instead, it uses an analogy from the Book of Judges, where it describes soldiers so skilled they could sling a stone and "not miss" – yaḥti – a hair.
See the connection? The term "sin" here is used in the sense of aiming at a target and... missing. It's an error in judgment, an unintentional misstep. Not a deliberate act of wrongdoing.
So, what's the takeaway? Should we then just give up trying to do good, since we're bound to mess up anyway? Absolutely not! The message isn’t about excusing bad behavior. It's about understanding the complexities of life and the limitations of human judgment.
Kohelet Rabbah is telling us that we shouldn't let the fear of making mistakes paralyze us. We shouldn't refrain from giving charity, from doing good in the world, simply because we're worried we might not get it exactly right.
Think about it: if we only ever acted when we were 100% sure we’d succeed, how much good would go undone? How many people would go without help?
The message is clear: strive for righteousness, act with intention, but accept that you're human. You might miss the mark sometimes. But that shouldn't stop you from aiming. As Ginzberg so beautifully put it in Legends of the Jews, the path to righteousness is a journey, not a destination. And the journey is what truly matters.