And the rabbinic commentary on it, Kohelet Rabbah, digs even deeper.
It all starts with the question: "What is the advantage of one who works, in that he toils?" (Ecclesiastes 3:9). It's a question King Solomon, traditionally believed to be the author of Ecclesiastes, poses. If everything has its appointed time, what good is a craftsman's skill, or an upright person's integrity? Are we just subject to random good or bad fortune, regardless of our efforts?
One answer offered by Kohelet Rabbah suggests something more profound. It's not about random chance, but about alignment. "Each and every person is situated only with those whose actions are like his." In other words, birds of a feather flock together – both in this world and in the World to Come. People whose righteousness is similar receive a similar portion in the afterlife.
This idea is then beautifully illustrated with a quote from Habakkuk: "The righteous one will live by his faith" (Habakkuk 2:4). Rabbi Yitzḥak ben Rabbi Maryon takes this a step further, saying that even the eternal Righteous One, meaning God, is sustained by His faithfulness. The Midrash (rabbinic commentary) then interprets God's words: "Initially, I killed the Egyptian firstborn... so, too, every firstborn that will be born to you, you shall consecrate to me... due to My faithfulness." (Exodus 12:29, 13:2). It’s a powerful connection between divine faithfulness and our own actions.
Rabbi Pinḥas, citing Rabbi Reuven, shares a parable to further illuminate this point. Imagine a king preparing a feast. He invites guests, but with a catch: each guest must bring something to recline on. Some bring rugs, others mats, blankets, pillows, even chairs. But some bring only logs and stones! The king, seeing this motley assortment, decrees that each guest must recline on what they brought.
Naturally, those stuck with logs and stones are unhappy. They complain, "Is this befitting the honor of a king, that we should be sitting on logs and stones?" But the king responds, "Is it not enough that you tarnished the palace with [your] logs and stones… but you are also impudent to me…? Your 'honor' was achieved only by you, yourselves."
The parable then connects to the future judgment. The wicked, sentenced to Gehenna (hell), will complain, "We were anticipating the salvation of the Holy One blessed be He, and this befell us?" But God will retort, "When you were [alive] in the world, were you not quarrelsome, slanderers, and evildoers?" As it says in Isaiah 50:11, "go in the flame of your fire, and among the firebrands that you kindled." Don't blame God for your fate, the Midrash emphasizes; you brought it upon yourselves.
Finally, the text shares a story about Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish, a scholar engrossed in Torah study in the forest of Tiberias. A local potter faithfully brings him water each day. One day, the potter sits with the Rabbi, reminiscing about their childhood when they studied Torah together. He laments that while the Rabbi has achieved spiritual greatness, he has not. He pleads, "Pray for me that my portion will be with you in the World to Come."
But Rabbi Shimon's response echoes the central theme: "What will I pray for you that you should have it? You will come with people whose actions are like yours. Each and every person is situated only with those whose actions are like his."
So, what does it all mean? Kohelet Rabbah, through these stories and interpretations, suggests that our actions have consequences, not just in this world, but in the world to come. It's not about random luck, but about the choices we make and the kind of people we become. We create our own "reclining place," so to speak. What are you bringing to the feast? What kind of company are you keeping, and what kind of company are you becoming? It’s a question worth pondering, isn't it?