But what does it really mean?

Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Ecclesiastes, digs into this very question, using the verse from Ecclesiastes 3:10, "I have seen the matters that God has given to the sons of men, in which to engage," as a jumping-off point. What are these "matters" we humans are so busy with?

Rabbi Yudan, in the name of Rabbi Aivu, offers a stark answer: the pursuit of property. He points out that we’re never satisfied. "A person does not leave the world having achieved even half of his desire; rather, if he has one hundred, he wishes to turn them into two hundred. If he has two hundred, he wishes to turn them into four [hundred]." Sound familiar? This insatiable hunger for more can easily consume us.

But, Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, citing Rabbi Levi, offers a counterpoint. What if we use our property for mitzvot, for good deeds? He suggests that if we are privileged enough to use our resources for acts of kindness and righteousness, our prayers will be answered. He draws a connection to Genesis 30:33, "My righteousness [tzidkati] will bear witness [ve’anta] for me," implying that tzedaka, charity, paves the way for our prayers to be heard. Conversely, if we don't use our resources for good, our possessions could actually testify against us!

Then comes a sobering thought: what about the pursuit of ill-gotten gain? Rabbi Yoḥanan doesn't mince words: this is the pursuit of robbery. And Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish, again quoting Rabbi Yoḥanan, paints a vivid picture: imagine a se’a, a specific measure, overflowing with sins. Which sin cries out first? Robbery. As Rabbi Yudan says in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan, quoting Amos 9:1, God will "shatter [uvtza’am] the head of them all" – a clear allusion to betza, ill-gotten gain.

The message is clear: even among serious transgressions like idolatry, forbidden relationships, and bloodshed, robbery stands out as particularly severe. Rabbi Yaakov, also in Rabbi Yoḥanan’s name, notes that Ezekiel lists twenty-four sins, concluding with – you guessed it – robbery! As Ezekiel 22:13 says, "I have struck My hand because of the ill-gotten gain that you acquired…" That’s a pretty strong condemnation.

But the text doesn't stop there. Rabbi Ḥunya offers another perspective, interpreting the "matters" as the books of Prophets and Writings (the Nevi’im and Ketuvim). He suggests that if the Israelites had been worthy, they would only have needed the five books of the Torah. The Prophets and Writings were given as an extra challenge, an opportunity to exert themselves in study, perform mitzvot, and earn reward. It’s almost as if the additional texts were given to us to work harder for our spiritual fulfillment. Even so, the Rabbis say we are rewarded for our efforts in studying them just as we are for the Five Books of Torah.

And then, Rabbi Abbahu throws another curveball: perhaps the "matters" are the pursuit of Torah itself! He acknowledges the frustrating reality that we study Torah and then… forget it! But, the Rabbis from Babylonia, citing Rabbi Yitzḥak from Israel, and Rabbi Tovya, also in the name of Rabbi Yitzḥak, offer a comforting thought: forgetting is actually a good thing! Why? Because if we remembered everything we learned, we might study intensely for a short period and then abandon it, feeling like we'd "mastered" it. But because we forget, we're constantly drawn back to Torah, constantly re-engaging with its wisdom.

Finally, the text returns to the theme of robbery. The Rabbis suggest that the pursuit of robbery itself is one of these "matters" we engage in. They point to the generation of the Flood, who were steeped in robbery, as evidenced by Job 24:2: "They trespass, and flocks they steal and graze." Their fate? Annihilation by water. In contrast, the tribes of Reuben and Gad, who distanced themselves from robbery, were rewarded with inheritance in a safe place, as Numbers 32:1 describes: "Behold, the place is a place of livestock…" A place where they could thrive without resorting to theft.

So, what are we engaging in? Are we chasing possessions, or are we using what we have for good? Are we striving to deepen our understanding of Torah, even if we forget some of it along the way? And are we actively distancing ourselves from anything that smacks of injustice or exploitation? Kohelet Rabbah challenges us to reflect on our pursuits and to consider the true value of our endeavors. What "matters" most, in the end?