The ancient rabbis, in Kohelet Rabbah, that treasure trove of commentary on Ecclesiastes, dive deep into this verse. Rabbi Tanhuma suggests a simple, elegant idea: the world came into being precisely when it was meant to. Not a moment sooner, not a moment later. It was created at its appointed time.
But Rabbi Abbahu takes it a step further. He proposes something truly mind-blowing: that God created and destroyed worlds repeatedly, until finally arriving at this one. "These please Me and those did not please Me," God declared, according to Rabbi Abbahu. This concept, by the way, resonates with ideas we find elsewhere in Jewish mystical thought, like in the Kabbalah. Rabbi Elazar adds that this idea opens a depth of understanding.
It’s a radical thought, isn't it? That our world, with all its beauty and imperfections, is the result of a divine selection process.
The text then raises a fascinating point about who is qualified to make certain pronouncements. It asks: Who can truly appreciate the beauty of the world? Someone who has never experienced hardship? Someone who has never known wealth?
The rabbis suggest that it's Solomon, renowned for his wisdom and his opulence, who is best suited to declare that God made "everything beautiful in its time." Why him? Because he experienced the full spectrum of life. As it is written, "Solomon’s provision for one day was thirty kor of choice flour…" (1 Kings 5:2).
Similarly, the text argues that only someone who has possessed great wealth can truly understand its vanity. Thus, Solomon, of whom it is written: “The king made the silver in Jerusalem as stones…” (1 Kings 10:27), is qualified to say "Vanity of vanities." He saw the world and what would ultimately occur.
The same logic applies to Nebuchadnezzar's declaration in Daniel 4:32, "All residents of the earth are considered as nothing." It carries more weight coming from a powerful king who ruled over the entire world. As it is stated: “I have given him all the beasts of the field, as well” (Jeremiah 28:14) to serve him.
And consider Yitro, Moses' father-in-law. When he proclaims, "Now I know that the Lord is greater than all gods" (Exodus 18:11), it's particularly significant because he had explored every form of idol worship. As Rabbi Yishmael taught: Reuel, who is Yitro, did not leave any form of idol worship in the world that he did not seek and serve. His eventual recognition of God's supremacy is therefore all the more profound.
Finally, only Moses, who selflessly led the Israelites and took nothing for himself – "I have not taken one donkey from them" (Numbers 16:15) – had the moral authority to rebuke them.
What can we learn from all this? Perhaps it's that true understanding comes from experience, from grappling with both the good and the bad. It's not enough to simply observe the world from a distance. We must engage with it, wrestle with its complexities, and ultimately, strive to see the beauty in its time.
And maybe, just maybe, we can also find a little bit of ourselves in these ancient figures – Solomon, Nebuchadnezzar, Yitro, and Moses – each striving to make sense of their world and their place in it.