"What was is what will be," it says, "and what was done is what will be done; and there is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9).
But is that really true? Are we just doomed to repeat the same old patterns forever? Let's dive into a fascinating exploration of this verse from Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on Ecclesiastes.
The Rabbis, grappling with this very question, imagine a future gathering before the Holy One, blessed be He. The generations ask, "Master of the universe, who will recite songs before You first?" God's response? Only Moses. Why? Because, as the prophet Isaiah says, "Sing to the Lord a new song" (Isaiah 42:10) – and Moses already sang the ultimate new song at the Red Sea! He set the bar pretty high.
There's a story tucked in here, too, about the Roman government testing the wisdom of the Rabbis. They demanded a "torch," and the Rabbis, understanding this as a request for someone who could illuminate points of halakha (Jewish law), sent them Rabbi Meir.
Rabbi Meir was a brilliant sage. He answered all their questions, until they asked him about the Hebrew name for pig, ḥazir. His response? "Because it is destined to restore (lehaḥzir) the kingdom to its owner." He even went on to expound that the wolf would be sheared for fine wool and the dog for ermine – a vision of a world turned upside down! But his audience, perhaps feeling he was getting a little too creative, shut him down with, "Enough, Rabbi Meir, there is nothing new under the sun!"
Ouch.
The Rabbis then imagine a future scenario where God dispatches a herald, proclaiming that anyone who hasn't eaten pig meat will receive a reward. Many gentiles step forward, eager to claim their prize. But God asks: should they be rewarded in two worlds? They already enjoyed the pleasures of this world, should they also get the rewards of the world to come, reserved for God's children?
So, God sends out a second herald, this time asking about refraining from forbidden meats like carcasses and mauled animals. The implication? Gentiles aren't always so careful about these things, especially outside their homes. This all ties back to the pig, the ḥazir, destined to lehaḥzir, to restore greatness and the kingdom to its rightful owner. It's a complex idea about reward, punishment, and the unique role of the Jewish people.
And what about those mysterious taḥash hides used in the Tabernacle? What were they? Rabbi Yehuda says colored hides. Rabbi Nehemya says ermine. Rabbi Yoḥanan offers a different take entirely: God showed Moses a unique, large beast, used its hide for the Tabernacle, and then… stored it away! Rabbi Avin even gives it a name: keresh. Rabbi Hoshaya adds that it had a single horn on its forehead. It's a fascinating detail, connecting to the verse "It shall please the Lord better than a horned (makrin) and hooved ox" (Psalms 69:32).
The discussion then turns to the nature of the word makrin. Is it singular or plural? The Rabbis delve into the grammatical nuances, noting that while it's vocalized as plural, it's actually written in the singular. It’s a deep dive into the intricacies of language and the way the Torah can be interpreted on multiple levels.
Finally, Rabbi Berekhya, quoting Rabbi Yitzḥak, offers another exposition of "What was is what will be..." comparing the initial redeemer, Moses, to the ultimate redeemer, the Messiah. Just as Moses rode a donkey (Exodus 4:20), so too will the Messiah (Zechariah 9:9). Just as Moses brought down manna (Exodus 16:4), so too will the Messiah bring abundance (Psalms 72:16). And just as Moses brought forth water, so too will the Messiah bring forth a spring (Joel 4:18).
So, what do we make of all this? Does "nothing new under the sun" mean we're stuck in an endless, monotonous cycle? Or does it mean that the essential patterns of redemption, of struggle and triumph, repeat themselves throughout history, offering us hope and guidance? Perhaps it's both. Perhaps by understanding the past, we can better navigate the present and work towards a brighter future. Maybe the "new song" isn't entirely new, but a remix, a reinterpretation, a renewed commitment to the ancient melodies of justice, compassion, and hope.