There’s a fascinating story in Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic commentaries on the Book of Ecclesiastes, that tackles this very question. It involves a sharp-tongued rabbi and none other than the Roman Emperor Hadrian – may his bones be crushed, as the text so colorfully puts it!
Hadrian, in a moment of imperial hubris, challenges Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananya. He throws a verse from Ecclesiastes at the rabbi: “As a living dog is better than a dead lion." (Ecclesiastes 9:4). Then, he boldly declares, "I am better than Moses your master!” His reasoning? Simple: "Because I am alive and he is dead."
Ouch.
But Rabbi Yehoshua is no pushover. He doesn’t directly refute the Emperor’s claim. Instead, he poses a seemingly simple question: "Are you able to decree that no person may kindle a fire for three days?"
Hadrian, confident in his authority, readily agrees and issues the decree.
Now, here's where the story takes a clever turn. On the first night of the decree, Rabbi Yehoshua and Hadrian are on the palace roof when they spot smoke rising in the distance. The Rabbi asks, "What is that?"
Hadrian, caught in his own trap, explains that the governor is ill and his doctor prescribed hot water, thus requiring a fire to be lit.
Rabbi Yehoshua pounces. "Let despair come upon him! Even while you are still alive, your decree is voided!"
The punchline? Moses, our master, ever since he decreed upon us: “You shall not kindle fire in all your dwellings on the Sabbath day” (Exodus 35:3), a Jew does not kindle a fire on Shabbat—the Sabbath—in his life, and [Moses’s] decree has not been voided for all these years until now; yet you said: ‘I am better than he’?”
Think about that for a moment. Hadrian, with all his imperial might, couldn’t even enforce a three-day ban on fire. Moses, who led the Israelites out of Egypt millennia ago, still commands their actions every single Shabbat. According to Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, Moses' impact extends far beyond his lifetime, shaping the very fabric of Jewish life (Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, vol. 3, p. 148).
The power of Moses, as the story makes clear, lies not in brute force or fleeting authority, but in the enduring impact of his teachings and his covenant with God. His words, his laws, his very being continue to resonate and shape the world.
So, who is really the "lion" in this story? Who is merely the "dog"?
This story from Kohelet Rabbah isn’t just a clever anecdote. It's a powerful meditation on legacy, leadership, and the enduring power of the spirit. It reminds us that true greatness isn’t about immediate power, but about the lasting impact we have on the world. It’s about the values we instill, the traditions we uphold, and the inspiration we leave behind. Whose legacy will endure, and how will we be remembered?