The book of Ecclesiastes, or Kohelet as it’s known in Hebrew, dives right into that feeling. One particular verse, Ecclesiastes 4:8, really hits home: "There is one and not another, he also has no son or brother. There is no end to all his toil, and his eye is not satisfied with wealth. For whom do I toil, and prevent good from my soul? This too is vanity and a grave matter.” Heavy stuff, right? But what does it really mean?

Well, Kohelet Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on Ecclesiastes, unpacks it in some surprising ways. It’s like having a conversation across centuries, wrestling with the same questions about life's purpose.

First, the Midrash sees "There is one" as referring to the Holy One, blessed be He. As Deuteronomy 6:4 declares, "The Lord is our God, the Lord is one!" And "not another" means He has no partner in creation. He’s unique, singular. The Midrash then asks, if God has no "brother," how could He have a son? But then it answers its own question beautifully! God calls the Israelites "sons," as Deuteronomy 14:1 says, "You are sons to the Lord your God." And He calls them "brothers" too, as we see in Psalms 122:8: "For the sake of my brothers and neighbors." So, in a way, we are God's family.

"There is no end to all his toil" refers to everything God created in those six busy days of Creation. And "For whom do I toil?" The Midrash suggests it's to cleave to His ways. If we, as righteous people, don't amass mitzvot, good deeds, is there really a point to our existence? Is that not vanity, a waste?

But the Midrash doesn't stop there. It offers another interpretation, focusing on Abraham. "There is one and not another" – this is Abraham, as Ezekiel 33:24 says, "Abraham was one." He was unique, without equal. "He also has no son or brother" – remember when Abraham was asked to sacrifice Isaac? At that moment, he didn't see that he had a son. And when God told him to leave his land (Genesis 12:1), he didn't see that he had a brother. He was ready to give it all up for God. "There is no end to all his toil" – from mitzvot and good deeds. Anyone who doesn't act like Abraham, well, "this too is vanity."

And yet another interpretation centers on the tribe of Levi. Remember the golden calf incident? Moses commanded, "Pass to and fro from gate to gate […and slay every man his brother]" (Exodus 32:27). Deuteronomy 33:9 says of Levi, "Who says of his father and his mother: I have not seen him, and his brothers he did not acknowledge…" They put God above family. Their "toil" was the labor of the Tabernacle, and their offerings were never enough. Again, the message: if you don't act like them, it's all vanity.

Then, there's a darker interpretation: "There is one" – this is the evil inclination, the yetzer hara. "And not another" – there's no concern for a partner when committing a transgression. Scary, right? When someone sins, they don't think about the consequences, the harm they're causing. They don't see the son who will die because of their sins, or the brother who will be ashamed. If you don't avoid the evil inclination, it's vanity.

Finally, the Midrash tells a story about Gevini ben Ḥarson, a fabulously wealthy recluse. He had no partner, no siblings. "There is no end to all his toil" – from managing his vast inheritance. But "his eye is not satisfied with wealth" – because he was blind in one eye! The story goes that when his father died, he demanded to see all the gold and silver. His mother showed him a kor (a large measure) of dinars, so huge that they couldn't even see each other across the pile! On the day Gevini ben Ḥarson died, Belshazzar, the governor of Babylon, was born. Some say Belshazzar eventually seized all of Gevini's wealth. Was all that hoarding worth it?

So, what’s the common thread here? Each interpretation highlights the futility of a life lived without purpose, without connection to something larger than oneself. Whether it's God, family, community, or righteous action, the Midrash suggests that true meaning comes from looking beyond our own selfish desires. Otherwise, as Kohelet says, it's all just "vanity and a grave matter." Food for thought, isn't it? What are we toiling for?