That question, that nagging feeling, is at the heart of the Book of Ecclesiastes, or Kohelet in Hebrew. And it’s a question the Rabbis grappled with deeply.

The opening verse of Kohelet asks, “What profit is there for man in all his toil that he toils under the sun?” It's a powerful question that challenges the very meaning of our existence. According to Kohelet Rabbah, the Sages even considered suppressing the entire book! Why? Because they worried it sounded like heresy.

Rabbi Binyamin, as quoted in Kohelet Rabbah, explains that the Sages were concerned that people might misunderstand Solomon’s wisdom and think that all toil is pointless, even the toil of studying Torah. But, the Sages clarified, Solomon wasn’t talking about all toil, only “his toil” – the toil of worldly pursuits. Torah study, on the other hand, does bring profit.

Rabbi Shmuel ben Rabbi Yitzḥak adds another layer to the Sages' concerns. They took issue with Solomon's seemingly carefree advice: “Rejoice, young man, in your youth; and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth, and walk in the ways of your heart, and in the sight of your eyes” (Ecclesiastes 11:9). This seemed to contradict Moses' warning: “Do not stray after your heart and after your eyes” (Numbers 15:39). Was Solomon suggesting that restraint was out the window? That there was no divine justice?

Thankfully, Solomon clarifies himself, adding, “But know that for all these, God will bring you to judgment” (Ecclesiastes 11:9). This reassurance, according to Kohelet Rabbah, satisfied the Sages.

But the question of profit and toil lingered. Rabbi Huna and Rabbi Aḥa, citing Rabbi Ḥilfai, offered a beautiful distinction: Our toil under the sun may seem fruitless, but there's a treasure waiting for us above the sun. Rabbi Yudan echoed this, saying that we don't reap rewards under the sun, but we do above it. In other words, physical toil might not bring lasting profit, but spiritual toil definitely does.

Rabbi Levi and the Rabbis then explore what benefit righteous people receive for accumulating mitzvot, good deeds. Rabbi Levi suggests it is enough that God shines light upon them. The Rabbis expand on this, interpreting the phrase “under the sun” as “in exchange for.” They say that the reward for the righteous is that God will renew their faces and cause them to shine like the sun, as it is written: “But those who love Him are like the sun emerging in its might” (Judges 5:31).

The text then uses vivid imagery to illustrate God’s generosity. Rabbi Yannai describes the effort we put into cooking a simple meal. But God? God provides everything – the winds, the clouds, the rain, the plants – and all He asks in return is the omer, a small offering of barley. Rabbi Pinchas builds on this, adding the image of laundry in the rainy season, all the work it takes to dry clothes, while God provides everything.

Rabbi Berekhya even uses the analogy of a chef who isn’t allowed to taste his own cooking! Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, adds that God is our guard, yet we don’t even give Him a taste of what He guards.

Rabbi Elazar then asks, “Oh, wicked ones, do you no longer need Me?” referring to God's provision of rain and harvest. He reminds us that God preserves the appointed weeks of the harvest, protecting us from heatwaves and harmful dews. As David says in Psalms 68:10, “A bounteous [nedava] rain You will bring, God.”

Then, Rabbi Abba shifts our focus to the omer offering itself, noting the great care and effort involved in bringing it. As the text describes, emissaries of the court would carefully harvest the sheaves with great fanfare. Rabbi Levi emphasizes that God allows us to plow, sow, reap, and gather, but if He didn’t provide the wind for winnowing, we’d be stuck! Yet, we often don't even acknowledge this gift.

The text concludes with a fascinating anecdote about Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] and bar Kappara. Rabbi threw a wedding feast for his son but forgot to invite bar Kappara. In response, bar Kappara wrote on Rabbi’s gate: “After all your rejoicing there is death; and what is the profit in your rejoicing?” Rabbi, realizing his mistake, invited bar Kappara to a second feast. But bar Kappara then proceeded to distract everyone with endless parables, preventing them from enjoying the food. When Rabbi asked him why, bar Kappara explained that he wanted to show he wasn’t just there for the feast, but because he had been slighted.

This story, according to Kohelet Rabbah, illustrates Solomon's point: “What profit is there for man in all his toil that he toils under the sun?” It’s a reminder that even our greatest joys are fleeting.

Ultimately, the Sages in Kohelet Rabbah acknowledge that life under the sun can feel pointless at times. But they also offer a powerful message of hope. By shifting our focus from the material to the spiritual, by recognizing God’s constant presence and provision, we can find lasting meaning and profit in our toil. Even in the face of inevitable loss and change. So maybe the point isn’t what we get from our toil, but who we become in the process. What do you think?