Today, we're diving into a fascinating passage from Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Ecclesiastes, to explore this very dilemma.

The passage hinges on a verse from Ecclesiastes (3:18): "I said in my heart: It is by the speech of the sons of man that God has differentiated them, and that they may see that they themselves are but as animals.” It sounds a bit cryptic, right? But the rabbis unpack it in a truly thought-provoking way.

First, the text considers the wicked. It suggests that the "speech of the sons of man" refers to the curses and blasphemies uttered by the wicked. And here's the kicker: God, blessed be He, grants them tranquility despite their wickedness. Why? According to Kohelet Rabbah, it's "to designate [levarer] the attribute of justice for the wicked" in the World to Come. The term levarer comes from the root levaram, to differentiate. In other words, their earthly prosperity doesn't excuse them; it simply sets them up for greater judgment later.

And what about that comparison to animals? The passage says that the wicked will "see... that they themselves are but as animals," implying they will understand that, like animals destined for slaughter and without a place in the World to Come, they too face a similar fate. A harsh image, but a powerful one.

But the passage doesn't stop there. It then turns to the righteous, offering a contrasting perspective. Here, "the speech of the sons of man" refers to the asceticism, fasts, and suffering endured by the righteous. And what's the purpose? "That God has differentiated [levaram] them," this time "to designate [levarer] for them [reward for] the measure of their righteousness." Their suffering isn't meaningless; it earns them reward.

Now, about that animal comparison. This time, it's Israel who is likened to animals, specifically sheep, as we find in Ezekiel 34:31: "Now, you are My sheep, the sheep of My pasture, you are Man." And just as a sheep extends its neck for slaughter, so too do the righteous endure suffering for God, as Psalm 44:23 says: "For we are killed all day long for You…" It’s a stark image of devotion and sacrifice.

Here’s where it gets really interesting. The text offers a tradition: "anyone who performs a mitzvah [good deed] just before his death, it is as though his measure of righteousness was lacking only that mitzvah, and he completed it. And one who performs a transgression just before his death, it is as though his measure of wickedness was lacking only that transgression, and he completed it." It’s a powerful reminder that our final actions can be incredibly significant, tipping the scales, so to speak.

The passage concludes with a debate between Rabbi Bon and Rabbi Yitzḥak. Rabbi Bon argues that just as God established prophets from Israel who are called "man," as in Ezekiel 34:31, He also established prophets for the idolaters who are called "animals," referencing Jonah 4:11: "[Should I not have pity on Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than one hundred and twenty thousand people…] and many animals." The Midrash here suggests that "people" refers to those not overly wicked, while "animals" refers to the wicked of Nineveh.

So, what does it all mean? This passage from Kohelet Rabbah isn't offering easy answers. It acknowledges the apparent inequalities of the world, where the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer. But it also offers a framework for understanding these inequalities within a larger, cosmic context. It suggests that earthly rewards and punishments are not the final word, and that our actions, especially our final ones, have profound consequences. It invites us to consider what it truly means to be human, to strive for righteousness even in the face of adversity, and to remember that even in our suffering, we are connected to something greater than ourselves.