It's part of the human condition. But have you ever considered that this struggle might be… a cosmic drama playing out on a miniature scale, right inside of you?
That’s the kind of mind-bending idea we find in Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the book of Ecclesiastes. It uses a parable, a story within a story, to unpack something profound.
The parable goes like this: "A small city, and few men in it; and a great king came against it, and surrounded it, and built great bulwarks against it" (Ecclesiastes 9:14). Sounds like a classic underdog story, doesn't it? But what does it mean?
The rabbis in Kohelet Rabbah unpack it with layers of meaning. “A small city” – that’s Sinai. Yes, the very mountain where the Torah was given! And "few men in it"? Those are the Israelites, newly freed from Egypt, standing at the foot of the mountain.
Now, who's this "great king" laying siege? Here's where it gets interesting: it's the yetzer hara (יֵצֶר הָרַע), the evil inclination. That inner voice, that nagging urge that pulls us away from what’s right. It's a constant force, always trying to undermine our best intentions. And the "great bulwarks" it builds? Well, according to this interpretation, that's the Golden Calf. "This is your god, Israel!" (Exodus 32:4). A potent image of temptation and idolatry. So, the Israelites, fresh from liberation, are immediately under attack from within. The yetzer hara is whispering doubts, desires, and distractions. It’s building a case for instant gratification, for abandoning the covenant they just entered into.
But there's hope! "He found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city" (Ecclesiastes 9:15). Who's the poor wise man? Moses, of course! Humble, yet powerful in his connection to the Divine. The text references Exodus 32:11, where Moses pleads with God, "Lord, why shall Your wrath be enflamed against Your people?" He stands as the intercessor, the defender of the people, using his wisdom to avert disaster.
Here's the kicker, though: "Yet no one remembered that same poor man." (Ecclesiastes 9:15). Ouch. It's a painful reflection on human nature, isn't it? We often forget the ones who save us, the ones who stand in the gap.
But the story doesn't end there. Kohelet Rabbah adds a crucial detail: "The Holy One blessed be He said: You did not remember him; I remember him." God remembers Moses, even when the people don't. As it says in Psalm 106:23, "Therefore He said He would destroy them, had not Moses His chosen stood before Him in the breach."
So what does it all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that we are all "small cities," constantly under siege by our own internal struggles. The yetzer hara is real, the temptations are powerful. But we also have the potential for wisdom, for choosing the higher path. And even when we forget those who guide us, those who stand up for us, there's a force greater than ourselves that remembers.
It’s a powerful image, isn’t it? This constant struggle, this internal battle. But also, the constant presence of hope, of wisdom, and of remembrance. It's a reminder that even in our smallest, most vulnerable moments, we are part of a much larger story. And that story, ultimately, is one of redemption.