Kohelet, the book of Ecclesiastes traditionally attributed to Solomon, wrestles with just that. And Kohelet Rabbah, the rabbinic commentary on Ecclesiastes, digs even deeper. Let's unpack one particularly rich verse: "I also gathered for myself silver and gold, and the treasure of kings and countries; I acquired for myself songsters and songstresses, and chests and wagons of the pleasures of people" (Ecclesiastes 2:8).
Okay, so Solomon’s loaded. We get it. He had more bling than anyone could imagine. But was it all just about the material? The Rabbis of the Midrash, those masters of interpretation, weren't so sure.
The text goes on, referencing "The king made the silver in Jerusalem as stones” (I Kings 10:27). Could silver really have been as common as stones? The Midrash imagines these weren't just pebbles, but massive ten-cubit and eight-cubit stones! The point? Solomon's wealth was beyond comprehension. We even hear that during Solomon's reign, even weights were made of gold – even a kanterin, a talent, a massive amount! Each weight, large and small, was gold.
“And the treasure of kings…” The verse continues, alluding to the stream of rulers who sought Solomon's wisdom, as it says in II Chronicles 9:23, “All the kings of the earth sought the presence of Solomon.” And then there’s the Queen of Sheba, representing "countries." The text sees her visit not just as diplomacy, but as a contest of wits: “She came to challenge him with riddles” (I Kings 10:1). She tried to medayyenet him, to challenge him, but she couldn't overcome his wisdom. And Solomon, being the generous king he was, gave her “all her desires that she requested" (I Kings 10:13).
So far, so good. We've got riches, diplomacy, and wisdom all rolled into one. But here's where it gets really interesting. The Rabbis ask: Is this verse really just about Solomon’s bank account? Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Neḥemya challenges us. "Does the verse come to teach us only of Solomon’s wealth?" he asks. The answer, of course, is no. It's about something much deeper.
The Midrash then launches into a fascinating allegorical reading, connecting Solomon's material acquisitions to spiritual pursuits. "I increased my actions [maasai]" becomes a reference to the very tablets of the Ten Commandments, “The tablets were the work [maaseh] of God” (Exodus 32:16). "I built myself houses" transforms into synagogues and study halls. Suddenly, Solomon isn’t just building palaces; he’s building community and fostering learning.
“I planted myself vineyards" becomes the rows of Torah scholars, sitting in order like vines. As the Mishna in Ketubot 4:6 tells us, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya expounded Torah before the Sages "in the vineyard of Yavne." Was it actually a vineyard? No, it was Torah scholars arranged like one. "I made myself gardens and orchards" are the great collections of baraitot – teachings not included in the Mishnah – compiled by scholars like Rabbi Ḥiyya the Great, Rabbi Hoshaya the Great, and bar Kappara. "And I planted in them trees of every fruit" – that's the Talmud itself, the rich commentary that makes those teachings flourish. Even "pools of water" become expositions of Torah, according to Rabbi Ḥiyya the Great. Rabbi Naḥman adds that they irrigate "a forest which grows trees" – which are the children who study, or, alternatively, the Torah scholars themselves.
And what about those "slaves and maidservants?" They represent the nations of the world, over whom the Jewish people have a spiritual influence, echoing the prophecy in Joel 3:2: “Upon the slaves and upon the maidservants, too, in those days I will pour out My spirit.” The text also references Isaiah 61:5: “Strangers will stand and graze your flocks…” And "stewards [benei bayit]," literally "household members," are interpreted as the Divine Spirit, regularly present in Solomon’s home!
The reinterpretation continues: "silver and gold" become the Torah itself, "more desirable than gold" (Psalms 19:11). The "treasure of kings" reflects the power of Torah scholars, who, as Proverbs 8:15-16 says, enable kings to reign and princes to rule. "Countries [medinot]" are the Torah scholars who medainin, who deliberate, in matters of Jewish law, halakha. And those "songsters and songstresses?" They are the Tosefta, a collection of supplementary laws and traditions. And the "pleasures?" The aggadot, the stories and parables that make the Torah delightful. Finally, "chests [shidda] and wagons [shiddot]" become male and female judges.
What’s the takeaway? Kohelet Rabbah isn't just giving us a history lesson or a financial report on Solomon’s kingdom. It's offering a profound lesson about what truly matters. It's suggesting that even the most extravagant material possessions are ultimately empty unless they are connected to something deeper, something spiritual, something that contributes to wisdom, community, and the pursuit of Torah. It’s a reminder that true wealth isn't measured in silver and gold, but in the richness of our inner lives and the strength of our connections to something greater than ourselves. So, maybe Solomon's true treasure wasn't in his vaults, but in the halls of learning he fostered, and in the pursuit of wisdom he embodied.