We find ourselves in Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Ecclesiastes. The verse in question is Ecclesiastes 10:15: “The toil of the fools will exhaust him, as he will not know to go to a city.” Seems simple enough. But, as is so often the case, the rabbis find layers upon layers of meaning within these words.
The first interpretation presented is pretty straightforward: “The toil of the fools will exhaust him” refers to a student who just… stagnates. They don’t seek help, they don’t try to understand. And “as he will not know to go to a city” means, shouldn’t he have just gone to his teacher? Shouldn’t he have sought guidance to refresh his learning? It’s a potent reminder that learning isn’t a solitary pursuit; it requires humility and a willingness to ask for help.
But the story doesn’t end there. The rabbis, in their characteristic way, find another, far more dramatic meaning in this verse. This time, it's about Yiftach (or Jephthah), the judge of Israel. Remember him? He made a rash vow to God in Judges 11:30-40, promising to sacrifice whatever first came out of his house to greet him if he won a battle. And tragically, it was his daughter.
So, “The toil of the fools will exhaust him” – this, the rabbis say, refers to Yiftach. And "as he will not know to go to a city?" Shouldn’t he have gone to Pinḥas (Phinehas) to annul his vow?
This is where the story gets really painful. Yiftach, puffed up with his own importance, supposedly said, “I am the chief and commander of Israel; shall I go to Pinḥas?” And Pinḥas, no less prideful, retorted, “I am a High Priest, son of a High Priest; shall I go to an ignoramus?”
According to this midrash, their pride led to unspeakable tragedy. "Between the two of them," the text declares, "that unfortunate one was lost, and the two of them are liable for her blood." Wow. Heavy stuff. The consequences for both men, as the rabbis tell it, were devastating. Yiftach, as punishment, suffered a gruesome fate. Judges 12:7 says he was buried "in the cities of Gilead." But the rabbis ask, how could he be buried in multiple cities? The answer, they say, is that his limbs were severed one by one, and each was buried separately. A truly horrific end, born of arrogance and poor judgment.
And what of Pinḥas? Well, according to I Chronicles 9:20, "Pinḥas ben Elazar had been chief over them; in the past the Lord was with him." Notice the phrasing? "Had been." The rabbis interpret this to mean that the Divine Spirit left him for two hundred years. He lost his connection to the divine.
So, what are we to take away from this? It's more than just a cautionary tale about rash vows. It’s a powerful reminder about the dangers of pride and the importance of seeking wisdom and counsel, even—and especially—when it bruises our ego. It reminds us that sometimes, the hardest thing to do is admit we need help, to "go to the city," to swallow our pride and learn from others. And the consequences of failing to do so can be far more devastating than we ever imagine.