It's not just about accumulating knowledge, but about understanding, about the ability to delve into the heart of things. And according to Kohelet Rabbah, one of the most beautiful compilations of rabbinic thought on the Book of Ecclesiastes, the answer might surprise you.
"Who is like the wise man?" Kohelet Rabbah asks, and then answers its own question: "This is Israel." But why? Because, as Deuteronomy 4:6 tells us, it is "a particularly wise and understanding people." And what is it that makes them so?
It's their ability to grapple with the complexities of Torah, to see multiple sides of every question. "And who knows the meaning of a matter?" the text continues. They "knew how to expound the Torah, forty-nine interpretations for ritual purity and a corresponding number for ritual impurity." Imagine that! Forty-nine different ways to understand whether something is tahor (ritually pure) or tamei (ritually impure). They could analyze a question from every conceivable angle, offering forty-nine rationales for each side of the argument. Talk about intellectual rigor!
This wasn't just academic exercise, though. It was about connecting with the Divine. Kohelet Rabbah suggests that when the Israelites stood at Mount Sinai and declared, "Na'aseh v'nishma – We will perform and we will hearken" (Exodus 24:7), they were elevated. The aura of the Shekhinah, the supernal Divine Presence, rested upon them. They weren’t just agreeing to follow the commandments; they were committing to understand them, to wrestle with them, to internalize them.
But, as the story often goes, this state of grace didn't last. When they sinned with the Golden Calf, everything changed. The text says they became enemies of God, and "the boldness of his face is changed." Here, Kohelet Rabbah does a clever bit of wordplay. The word "changed" (yeshuneh) is interpreted to mean "hated" (yesuneh). The relationship was fractured.
And God, in turn, "changed matters for them," as it is written in Psalms 82:7: "Indeed, you will die like man." Before the sin, they were almost angelic, as Psalm 82:6 states: "I had said: You are divine, like celestial beings, all of you." But now, mortality would be their fate.
So, what does this all mean? It's a reminder that wisdom isn't just about knowledge; it's about the choices we make. It's about the constant striving to understand, to connect with the Divine, and to live up to the potential that was revealed at Sinai. And it's a poignant reflection on how easily we can lose our way and the consequences that follow. Are we living up to our potential for wisdom and understanding? That’s a question worth pondering.