Ever feel like some things are just... gone? Like a puff of smoke, vanished without a trace? That feeling, that sense of impermanence, is something the book of Ecclesiastes – or Kohelet, as it’s known in Hebrew – wrestles with constantly. And Kohelet Rabbah, the rabbinic commentary on Ecclesiastes, dives even deeper into this idea.

The verse that really gets us thinking is Ecclesiastes 9:6: "Even their love, even their hatred and even their envy, have already perished; they will never again have a portion in anything that is done under the sun.”

Wow. Heavy stuff, right?

So, what does it mean? Kohelet Rabbah doesn’t shy away from offering a powerful interpretation.

"Even their love," the commentary says, refers to the love that idolaters had for their idols – a love, shockingly, that outweighed their love for the Holy One, blessed be He. Can you imagine? A love so misplaced, so misdirected, that it's ultimately… meaningless?

And what about "even their hatred"? This refers to the hatred that those same idolaters harbored for the Holy One, a hatred expressed through their actions. Think about that: actively, demonstrably hating the very source of existence. It's a chilling thought.

Then comes "even their envy (kinatan)." This is where it gets really interesting. The Rabbis connect kinatan, meaning envy, to the Hebrew word kinuhu, meaning “they infuriated Him.” They infuriated Him with their idol worship. As it says in Deuteronomy 32:16, "They would infuriate Him with strange gods." It's a play on words, a subtle but powerful link between envy and the act of provoking divine anger. This isn’t just about garden-variety jealousy; it's about actively choosing to anger the Divine through misplaced devotion.

The commentary then makes a stark pronouncement: those who engage in such behavior "no longer have a portion in the world." Specifically, the World to Come. That's a pretty serious consequence, isn’t it?

But there’s a flip side. A glimmer of hope.

Because immediately after this sobering thought, Kohelet Rabbah contrasts this fate with the destiny of Israel: "But Israel has a portion and an excellent reward, as it is stated: 'Go eat your bread joyfully' (Ecclesiastes 9:7)." What a beautiful image! Joyful eating, a symbol of contentment and reward.

So, what’s the takeaway here? Maybe it's a reminder to examine our own affections. Where do we place our love, our loyalty, our devotion? Are we directing them towards things that are ultimately fleeting and meaningless, or towards something enduring and true? Are we, in effect, choosing joy... or something else?