Take the verse from Ecclesiastes (10:8): “One who digs a pit will fall into it; and one who breaches a fence, a serpent will bite him.” It's a powerful image, right? But what does it really mean?
Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on Ecclesiastes, unpacks this verse with some pretty striking examples. It's fascinating to see how the rabbis of old took these biblical lessons and applied them to the real-life dramas unfolding around them.
First up: “One who digs a pit will fall into it” is applied to none other than the wicked Pharaoh of the Exodus story. Remember his infamous decree: “Every son who is born [you shall cast him into the Nile]” (Exodus 1:22)? Well, the Midrash connects this directly to Pharaoh's downfall, stating, "He will fall into it – as it is stated: 'He shook Pharaoh and his people in the Red Sea'” (Psalms 136:15). That’s poetic justice if I’ve ever heard it.
And the examples don't stop there. The Midrash sees Haman, the villain of the Purim story, in this same light. Haman’s plot "to destroy, to kill, and to eliminate" (Esther 3:13) the Jewish people? It backfired spectacularly. "Will fall into it – as it is stated: 'His wicked intentions will return…upon his head, and he and his sons should be hanged on the gallows'" (Esther 9:25). Talk about digging your own grave!
But what about that second part of the verse? "One who breaches a fence, a serpent will bite him." Here, the Midrash turns to the story of Dina, Jacob's daughter. While her father and brothers were immersed in study, Dina went out "to see the daughters of the land" (Genesis 34:1). According to the text, this led to her encounter with Shechem ben Ḥamor, who the Midrash equates to a serpent. It's a fascinating connection, given that the word "Hivite" (as in, Shechem the Hivite) is related to the Aramaic word ḥivya, meaning serpent.
The Midrash vividly describes Shechem’s actions: "Shekhem ben Ḥamor saw her… He took her… He lay with her… and he raped her" (Genesis 34:2). The phrase “He took her” is interpreted as “he seduced her with words,” referencing Hosea 14:3, "Take words with you." Ouch. Dina's choice to venture beyond the protective "fence" of her family's values, in this reading, led to devastating consequences.
These stories are powerful, but they can also feel a little…distant. So let’s bring it closer to the ground. The text then shifts to the story of Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai, a towering figure in Jewish mysticism.
Rabbi Shimon and his son, Rabbi Elazar, famously hid in a cave for thirteen years to escape Roman persecution. We’re told they survived on carobs and dates. Imagine that! After all that time, Rabbi Shimon emerged and witnessed a trapper hunting birds. He noticed that the trapper only succeeded when a "Divine Voice" declared "Success!" and failed when it declared "Failure!" This led Rabbi Shimon to conclude that even a bird's fate is in God's hands, let alone a human being's. This seemingly small observation underscores the profound idea that nothing happens without divine decree.
Feeling the need for healing after their years in the cave, they went to the hot springs of Tiberias. According to Etz Yosef, the conditions in the cave had led them to suffer from skin ailments. After being healed, Rabbi Shimon felt compelled to "do good" for the residents, mirroring the actions of Jacob, who, as Genesis 33:18 says, "encamped [vayiḥan] before the city," which the rabbis interpret as establishing a market and selling goods at low prices.
Rabbi Shimon then took it upon himself to purify Tiberias, which had become ritually impure due to unmarked graves from the Roman conquest. He used lupines to identify where bodies were buried. (Talk about a dedicated community leader!) But here’s where things get interesting…
A Samaritan tried to trick Rabbi Shimon by burying a corpse in a street that had already been purified. When confronted, Rabbi Shimon, through divine inspiration, knew the truth. He then declared, "I decree that the one who is lying shall stand and that the one standing will lie," or, according to another version, "I decree that the one above will descend and the one below will ascend." And that’s exactly what happened!
Later, Rabbi Shimon overheard Nakai the scribe mocking him for the incident. Rabbi Shimon, deeply offended, declared that if Tiberias was not destined to be purified, may certain curses befall him. He then cursed Nakai, stating that he had "breached the fence of the Torah scholars" and that "a serpent will bite him." And, tragically, it came to pass.
Finally, Rabbi Shimon encountered a man harvesting aftergrowths during the Shmita (Sabbatical) year, when such activity is forbidden. The man argued that Rabbi Shimon himself permitted it, citing a Mishna (Sheviit 9:1) where Rabbi Shimon allows aftergrowths except for cabbage. Rabbi Shimon countered that his colleagues disagreed with him, and, invoking the verse about breaching a fence, the man was punished.
So, what are we to take away from all these stories? Are they just ancient tales with no relevance today? I don't think so. They remind us that our actions, both good and bad, have consequences. That the choices we make, the "fences" we choose to breach, can have a profound impact, not just on ourselves but on those around us. It's a potent reminder to tread carefully and to consider the ripple effect of our decisions. It's a call to build fences of integrity and kindness, rather than tearing them down. And maybe, just maybe, to avoid digging any unnecessary pits.